


Chartreuse Heart

by DrowntheFrowns, familiarFlames



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dissociation, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jet (Avatar) Is An Asshole, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, The Jet/Zuko is NOT good, Trans Female Character, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25172212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowntheFrowns/pseuds/DrowntheFrowns, https://archiveofourown.org/users/familiarFlames/pseuds/familiarFlames
Summary: Bitter about having to start a new life in Ba Sing Se, Zuko isn’t prepared for the trials and tribulations lying in wait within his future. Faced with choices at every turn, he learns what love is and isn’t, and what family truly means.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Hakoda & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Jin & Zuko (Avatar), Longshot & Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Suki/Ty Lee (Avatar), Smellerbee & Zuko, Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko
Comments: 146
Kudos: 458





	1. Pivot

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my first ATLA fic, and of COURSE it's me ProjectingTM. It's tagged as a collab with my good friend Drown because he's currently writing his own fic in the same universe!  
> Big tw, this fic will feature a lot of venting. PLEASE heed the tags and warnings, and please be aware that Jet is NOT GOOD in this fic!

When Zuko had agreed to help Jet on the ferry, he should have remembered that disaster follows closely in the footsteps of each decision he makes.

When Zuko had agreed to help Jet on the ferry, he was completely unaware of how his entire life would pivot on its axis from that decision. 

He should have known. _He should have known._

* * *

When Jet invites him onto the Freedom Fighters after they land in Ba Sing Se, it takes a lot of willpower to turn him down. Jet is charming, and Zuko truly wouldn’t mind joining them. However, he knows it would end in a shitfest and possibly get him, or worse, his Uncle, killed. There’s also something in Jet’s eyes that offsets his charm and makes Zuko’s skin crawl just slightly, although he can’t place the look. It pierces into him uncomfortably, but it also makes turning down his invitation easier. 

“Your loss,” Jet says as Zuko turns away, and the Prince can feel eyes on his back as he returns to his Uncle. He feels his irritation, and his anxiety, skyrocket when he realizes Uncle’s cold tea is steaming when it most certainly should not be. Is he _trying_ to get them killed as soon as they get to Ba Sing Se?

Zuko tells himself he doesn’t feel guilty at the sadness Iroh shows after he slaps the tea out of his hands. He tells himself it’s for the better, considering they’re trying to stay alive here.

As they leave the port and finally enter the rings of Ba Sing Se, Iroh puts his hand on his nephew’s shoulder with a soft smile. While Zuko doesn’t smile back, he doesn’t shrug his Uncle off either, which is almost the same thing to the elder firebender. _It’s okay, we’ll be okay._

* * *

They get jobs at a local tea shop, and a tiny apartment with only the necessities within. Although it chafes at Zuko’s pride, and his patience, he puts aside his frustrations, his irritations, his anxious thoughts of what his future will hold. So far, at the very least, it’s all going smoothly.

Iroh does his very best to make the space feel like a home, decorating it with houseplants and other odds and ends that appeal to him. Zuko doesn’t admit to himself how much he finds the set up charming, preferring not to get attached to a space anymore. He doesn’t want to become complacent within these walls, he only wants to keep things all going smoothly.

* * *

The tea shop they work at doesn’t pay much, but it’s honest work and easy enough to fall into the rhythm of it. The customers from time to time are a hassle, but Zuko grew up in the world of politics. These people with their easy to read faces and their poorly-kept secrets are refreshing, even when he would like nothing more to start a literal fire under their asses to get them out of the shop. It had all been going smoothly.

The door slides open, a little aggressively, and Zuko turns to see who is coming in. Sometimes the soldiers come in tired and aggravated, looking for a hot cup of tea to wind down. Sometimes it’s just someone having a bad day, others still are having a _good_ day and are just enthusiastic. 

Seeing Jet walk in isn’t what Zuko is expecting, and there’s a peculiar look in his eye as he takes a seat in the corner-bench farthest from the rest of the patrons. He sprawls out until he’s comfortable, and Zuko tears his eyes away from him and turns back to the customer he’s with at the moment. The feeling of eyes on his back follows him through the shop as he takes their order up to the counter.

Once he has their order pinned to the order board, he sighs and makes his way over to where Jet is. He can’t just ignore him, and he also kind of wants to know why he’s here. He leans against the table and looks down at the earth boy, raising a brow at the little smirk and wheat that was still in his mouth. _I hope that’s not the same piece of wheat he had on the ferry,_ he thinks to himself, although realistically he knows it’s probably a new sprig of wheatcane. He’s noticed it’s a pretty popular trend amongst the earth kingdom citizens. 

“What can I get for you, Jet?” he asks in his best customer service voice, and Jet’s raises an eyebrow at that. His smirk gets just a little wider, a little bit sharper, as he seems to think it over. 

“What would you suggest, Lee?” He asks, his voice trailing over the name a little pointedly. Zuko does his best to not jump to conclusions, to automatically assume he’s been found out, and shrugs dismissively. 

“The jasmine tea is pretty good; I don’t mind it as much as some others,” he says, and Jet nods. 

“I’ll take that then.”

“Coming right up,” he says, jotting it down and turning to take it to the order board. Before he can take more than two steps, Jet whistles sharply at him. Zuko tries not to bristle defensively as he turns around. 

“When’s your break?” Jet asks, and Zuko shrugs. Before he can try to lie and say he’s already taken his break, his Uncle steps up to them from where he’d been handing out tea and also eavesdropping. 

“You can go on your break now if you’d like, Nephew! You could use some friends here,” he says, and Jet’s smirk was mischievous, almost wicked, as Zuko flushed with embarrassment. He didn’t miss how the earth boy’s eyes fixated on his Uncle though, something dangerous hidden just beneath his general air of suaveness. 

Zuko scowled, but handed Jet’s order to his Uncle, untied his apron, and sat down heavily in the seat across from where Jet was still sitting stretched out. Jet whistles again, shaking his head as he glances down at the table. 

“Damn, who pissed in your breakfast? _Lighten up_ a little, Lee,” he says, and really, is that smirk _permanent?_ “Haven’t you ever heard? If you make a face like that long enough, it’ll stick.” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Zuko shoots back, and he _has._ He heard it growing up too, so he’s starting to think maybe it’s too late to be told. Maybe his face is already stuck scowling. 

To be fair, life sucks. 

“So what are you doing here?” Zuko asks, and Jet snorts. Zuko really doesn’t like how condescending this guy is acting, though he wasn’t a huge fan of it on the ferry either. Although speaking of the ferry, “Where’s Smellerbee and Longshot?”

Jet blinks at him, almost as if he’s surprised. Zuko’s surprised a little bit, himself. He guesses neither of them were expecting him to remember their names. 

“Well, to answer your first question, isn’t this a public tea shop? Maybe I just wanted some tea. As for your second question, they’re out and about exploring,” Jet pauses, rubbing under his nose distractedly, “They’re a little naive, honestly, they don’t see the corruption in the world as easily as people like we do. It’s got to be pointed out to them half the time.”

Zuko wonders idly if they’re talking about the same two people. The girl had seemed a little hotheaded, but sensible enough. Longshot, however, had an energy about him that seemed… knowing. That was the best way to describe him. 

Uncle Iroh returns shortly with tea for both teens, jasmine in each cup. Zuko nurses his slowly, appreciating the warmth of it. Jet just stirs his idly, waiting for it to cool. Once Iroh has left to attend to other customers, Jet turns back to Zuko with a devious glitter in his eyes and a grin. 

“What say you we get out of here and go crash some rich snob’s lawn party?” he asks, absolutely serious, and Zuko feels that expression tear through him very suddenly. It sounds like fun, and it sounds like exactly the type of thing _Crown Prince Zuko_ would never have been invited to do. Something he wouldn’t be able to enjoy doing outside of this setting. 

He downs the rest of his tea, stares at the table for a long moment, sensing danger, feels his instincts _scream_ not to do it, before he meets Jet’s eyes with a determined look of his own. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

It becomes a thing they do. The Blue Spirit and the Freedom Fighters terrorize rich nobles and steal money from savings so large that what they take won’t even be noticed. They give it out to the peasants and street-dwellers, and they keep some of it for themselves. 

“You’re pretty damn good with those swords!” Smellerbee tells him one night while they’re all draped across some random roof after they’d finally managed to ditch the Dai Li and affronted security guards. Zuko grins beneath the Blue Spirit mask, looking over at her and Longshot. The two freedom fighters are close; she’s currently draped across Longshot’s lap as he stares at Zuko. If Zuko didn’t know any better, he’d swear Longshot can see his soul through the mask. 

Shaking that thought off, he also thinks about how he’s noticed that despite how close-knit the group is, Jet puts a distance between himself and the other two. Zuko thinks back to Jet calling the other two naive, and wonders if he thinks he’s above them. He wants to say that the other boy wouldn’t think like that, he wants to believe Jet is better than that. Jet's whole gig is knocking people down a peg. 

The two of them have become close, he thinks, and he knows it’s going to end in disaster. He dreams of maintaining this rebellious form of peace he’s found himself suspended in, but he knows it will end. 

Sometimes, he tells himself he needs to _get out_ , he’ll tell himself that when Jet drapes an arm over his shoulders and Longshot will look conflicted over what he’s seeing. He’ll tell himself _something about this doesn’t add up_ , as Smellerbee gets this brief moment of anger and conflict on her face before she manages to smother it with an indifferent smile. 

He’s heard how they talk about the Fire Nation, under the privacy of the moon and stars, hiding where nosy eyes and ears won’t overhear them. He knows they have the right, he understands why they feel the way they do, but when Jet says _the only good Fire Nation citizen is a dead one,_ he looks directly at Zuko and smirks, and for a horrible moment Zuko feels _known._ He feels scraped raw, like all of his sins and lies are on display. 

Longshot looks over at him sharply at Jet’s comment, eyes boring into his face with a scary intensity and he swallows. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.”

Smellerbee looks uncomfortable, and Jet just reclines against the roof from where he’d been sitting up. Zuko is sitting cross-legged, staring down into his lap. His arms are draped across his legs, and he clenches his hands a few times to help release the pent-up anxious energy suddenly making itself known. 

See, Zuko has also noticed something else over the past two or three weeks of hanging out with their little group- Jet is _violent._ Smellerbee is aggressive, but she’s not drawn towards cruelty. Longshot is… Longshot. His expression is always kept carefully neutral. 

Jet, however, is an open book when it comes to his violent tendencies. Sometimes it’s almost scary how angry he can get, and how _little_ he cares about other people’s lives. He made a comment, once, about hanging one of the families they robbed up by their feet and seeing if it would kill them before someone found them. 

Zuko didn’t even have a chance to speak up before Smellerbee had jumped into a rage. “Jet, what the actual fuck? These are _Earth Kingdom_ people. They’re _our_ people!”

“They might be our people, but are we _really_ theirs?” He’d shot back, and Zuko had felt sick. It had taken him a few days to hit the town with them again after that.

Now, they’re on this roof, and Zuko feels exposed. He stands up, and it's suspicious, _he's being suspicious,_ and looks to the three of them. 

“I’m going to head home before Uncle starts to worry,” he says, and Jet snorts. 

“Leaving so soon, babe? I’m sure the old man will be _fine_ without you for the night,” he says, smirking. Zuko feels his heart almost stop in his chest, and he turns his full focus onto Jet. 

“B-babe?” he forces out, and the other boy’s eyes are catlike in their intensity, daring him to argue with it 

“Yes, Lee?” 

He doesn’t know how to respond to that. They aren’t dating, are they? They haven’t gone on any dates. Unless Jet counted their _outings_ as dates. He glances over to Smellerbee and Longshot, who look just as surprised and Smellerbee looks at him with… is that _concern_ in her eyes? Did he _accidentally_ start dating Jet?

“I’m going home!” His voice is louder than it needs to be, and he knows it, but he’s stressing out, alright? He thinks it’s a valid response. He dips without another word, so he isn’t there to hear what they say in his absence. 

“What the hell are you _thinking,_ Jet?” Smellerbee rounds on him once Lee is out of earshot, and Jet shrugs. 

“This is the best way to get close to him and the old man. He’s like us, Smellerbee. He’ll come around, and he’ll slip up. He’ll either slip up or he’ll be stupid enough to trust us. I _know_ I’ve seen his face before though, both his and the old man’s,” he pauses, seeing Smellerbee still staring at him incredulously, “What?”

“Do you have any idea what you sound like right now? Huh?” She asks, huffing as she stands up and begins to pace along the roof. Longshot and Jet both watch her move back and forth with a fixed gaze, and she huffs again. 

“It’s a strategic move, Bee. I know it seems scummy, but we have to get _proof_ somehow! What do you expect me to do, just burst in through the door and accuse them?” he snaps, and she glares. 

“And what if they _aren’t_ Fire Nation, Jet? What if this ‘strategic move’ of yours is you just dragging a kid just like us, who’s been through hell and back, down through the mud even further?” 

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make! Would you really rather us just ignore them and find out when it’s _too late_ that they’re here to destroy everything we’ve fought for?”

“They’re _two people,_ Jet! Two fucking people cannot bring down an entire Kingdom single-handedly, Fire Nation or not!”

Longshot watches them go back and forth for a few more moments, hating to see this divide growing, and they finally catch the other two’s attention. They make it clear what they're saying as soon as the other two look at them. Smellerbee’s eyes widen and Jet gets a vindictive grin on his face at being proven right.

“You’re sure, Longshot?” Smellerbee asks, and they nod. They are sure. 

“Well, then, that settles it! Now we just have to wait until one of them fucks up enough to turn them in.”

For some reason, despite now knowing the refugee boy is Fire Nation, Smellerbee doesn't feel as much resolve as Jet. She looks to Longshot, who meets her eyes with a similar expression. 

_This is going to be bloody_.


	2. Dichotomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Zuko sorts through his thoughts, Smellerbee is beginning to experience a life-changing realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this entire chapter on my phone in size 14 comic sans. please help me.  
> tw for zuko, like, straight up murdering someone and jet just being a dick ig? also mentions of abuse  
> also shoutout to the people who've left comments, kudos, and bookmarked this fic; yall are the real ones <3

The door clicks quietly behind Zuko as he slips inside the apartment. His Blue Spirit disguise is tucked into his travel satchel, with him having changed back into his earth robes before entering. 

"Would you care for a cup of tea, Nephew?" His Uncle calls from the kitchen, which Zuko now realizes has light coming from the crack in the door after he jolts in surprise. 

He closes his eyes and sighs, leans against the door for a second, before he full-body pushes off of it. Making his way to the kitchen, he worries that maybe his Uncle is mad at him. Maybe he's about to get lectured. (It took a long time to understand he would never be truly hurt by his Uncle; he would never be hurt on purpose, and never physically.)

Once he's in the tiny little kitchen, he sits down across from his Uncle and grabs the hot cup of tea already sitting out for him. He holds it in his hands for a moment, embracing the comforting warmth as his Uncle remains quiet. 

Zuko has learned not to rush his Uncle in these moments. Not even two months ago, he would have demanded the old man to spit it out already, but he doesn't have the energy for it tonight. He's already been scraped raw once tonight, he's too drained to put up an argument. 

Maybe his Uncle realizes that, because he chooses his words very carefully. When he speaks, finally, blessedly, his words are only soft. They aren't weighted with the disappointment he probably feels towards his delinquent Nephew. 

"You know, it does an old man's soul a great deal of worry when his Nephew makes him stay up past his bedtime," he says, and Zuko looks down in his tea. He wants to snap, wants to say, "I can handle myself," but he doesn't. Rather, he feels shame, but he does his best to crush that down. Instead, he waits for his Uncle to continue. 

"I cannot claim to know what you're doing late at night, and I am glad you are making friends," he says as Zuko's mind wanders to Jet, "but I urge you to be  _ careful. _ If you are caught, you know what will happen. Even if they do not know your true identity, the Dai Li are  _ ruthless. _ "

Zuko fidgets, growing antsy as his Uncle lectures him. He'd figured he'd get a lecture, but he wasn't expecting it to make him feel so damn guilty. 

"I know, Uncle… I'm being careful," he says, even as thoughts of being  _ deviant _ enter his mind. Zuko doesn't believe his Uncle would openly frown upon his attractions, but he also isn't sure. Things are different in the Fire Nation. Things are  _ illegal _ in the Fire Nation. Uncle is different from many of the things the Fire Nation stands for, but Zuko would much rather not find where those differences end. 

His Uncle gazes at him with a scrutinizing eye, an almost knowing one, and Zuko feels himself getting unreasonably irritated (what's new, he asks himself.) 

"I'm not stupid! I'm not going to put us  _ both _ in danger. I wouldn't do that to you," he snaps, then regrets it, but he's so thankful he's  _ allowed _ to be angry in his Uncle's presence. He doesn't apologize, he just turns sharply to stare out the window at the street below. He hears his Uncle sigh and stand, and for a moment he worries maybe he pushed  _ too far _ this time.

"You misunderstand, Nephew. Not an unusual occurrence, but I beg you to listen to me," he pauses, placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder gently, "you are all I have left. This care you show for me, show for yourself, too. For my sake, if you must logic it as such."

_ I cannot lose another Son,  _ lies unspoken between them, but Zuko hears it anyways. He can no longer crush down the guilt he’s felt since coming home, and he looks down into his cup. He says, “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

Iroh sighs once more, squeezing reassuringly before he removes his hand from his Nephew’s shoulder. He moves on to clean up the teapot and his own empty glass. He looks over to where Zuko is still just staring into his tea as if it holds the answers he's so desperately seeking, and says, “I am going to bed. I urge you to do the same; it does one no good to work on little sleep.” 

It doesn't take Zuko long to finish his tea after his Uncle does just what he had said he would, and Zuko can hear his snores from the other room. Eventually, he carries himself to bed as well. Laying down, he forces his body to relax the best it can, and then he begins to think. The ceiling of the apartment beckons his mind to wander, and it wanders far and fast. 

Jet had called him babe. He'd called him babe in front of two other people. Zuko hadn't  _ denied _ it, either. 

He's known he likes boys for a long time now, of course, but he has done his best for years to hide it the best he possibly can. Between his attraction being outlawed for almost a century, and his grandfather, his father, and any number of Fire Nation Generals and Advisors expressing their distaste for his kind, it had felt safer to play the part of "token straight kid." 

The only person who actually knows is Azula, and it's the only thing he knows she'll  _ never _ use against him. He had come out to her at one of her own low points, after all. He had told her so that she'd know she wasn't alone. Not that it matters now, with the divide between them being large enough to even end in  _ death _ for one or the other of them, but at least he'd gotten to say the words out loud at least once in his life. 

He thinks about Jet again. Jet is, all things considered, an attractive young man with what  _ seems _ like a solid moral compass at first glance. Zuko thinks that he might not be the best judge of character when it comes to moral compass issues, however, given his own struggles with understanding morality. 

The innate knowledge of what's wrong and what's right does no good if in practice those morals are skewered. For all intents and purposes, Jet is a textbook good person. Fight against injustice, and enforce justice in its place. Steal from the rich, give to the poor. It forms a beautiful image on a sprawling canvas of hope. 

His quirks though, his mannerisms, how he holds himself, how he  _ delivers _ his convictions, is more likened to nails on a chalkboard. It's like the grinding of the chalk itself, rounded down to small to be effective, smearing its pale white dust across the board until it's unidentifiable. Zuko isn't sure he wants to see the finished image. 

In all honesty, he feels conflicted. He doesn't know what to do, but he has a feeling he's going to make the wrong choice again. Just like he always does. Maybe someday he'll break that habit. 

He finally sleeps.    
  


It's a slow day in the tea shop the next day, and the day after that, and continuing. It's almost a week later when Smellerbee walks in, sans her fellow Freedom Fighters, and sits in the same corner Jet had nearly a month ago. Zuko asks if he can take his break now since it's slow, and makes his way over to her with two glasses of ginseng tea. He knows she likes it. 

"Hey, Smellerbee… what brings you in here?" He asks, a little stilted, and then regrets it when she makes the little bemused face that everyone always does when he asks that.  _ She's here for tea, Lee. It's a tea shop.  _

Someday, he'll remember not to ask. He hopes that day is soon, he thinks to himself, as he sits down across from her. Unlike Jet, who hates drinking tea when it's still hot, Smellerbee takes a big slurp, makes a face as it burns her tongue, then does it again. She's the definition of having absolutely zero impulse control.

"Nice day job," she says, and although her tone is harsh, she seems genuine. Zuko nods shortly, looking out around the tea shop. His Uncle smiles at him when their gazes meet, and he softens. Sometimes, he wonders how his Uncle can meet him head on with such kindness. 

Smellerbee watches him, tilting her head curiously as he's distracted. To her, Lee is an enigma. Jet is absolutely convinced he and the old man are from the Fire Nation, and Longshot confirmed it themself, so she knows it's true. 

However, despite this, she's struggling to reconcile the boy in front of her with the image of Firebenders and Fire Nation people she has created in her head- some of which isn't imagination. She knows how she lost her home, after all. She remembers the lick of flames as she fled. 

They could be infiltrators, of course, but it seems odd to entrench themselves so much in Ba Sing Se's society if they intend to attack it's sanctity. They have put no effort into moving into the inner rings as of yet, and their apartment looks more and more like a  _ home _ each day. 

See, she has been watching them as closely as Jet himself has. After all, Jet is the leader of their ragtag group of vigilantes, so she has to put some effort into this mad scheme he's created in search of proof. 

The more she sees of the two Firebenders, and the more she sees of  _ Jet, _ the more she wonders what she's actually looking for.

Lee, as the Blue Spirit, has a righteous, silent fury that's terrifying. He has the capability to be lethal with his swords if he so desired, and yet his aim is only ever to incapacitate. She's never once seen him use his flame, which she thought was a _necessity_ for Firebenders, and unlike Jet, he's extremely critical with those whom he marks for their waltz unto death's doorstep.

She's seen him kill  _ once, _ and it was when they'd been doing a theft job in the Middle Ring. They'd been waiting for the family to go to bed when, through the window, they'd all seen the father strike the child. 

Before any of them had been able to voice their disgust, the Blue Spirit was suddenly  _ inside the room  _ with the family, grabbing the child with one arm and the mother with the other and spinning around, forcing them into a room and blockading them inside. 

By the time Jet, Longshot, and Smellerbee had managed to get inside, Lee already had the man pinned against the wall by his neck with his forearm, cutting off his circulation. 

By the time the Blue Spirit had stepped back, the father had crumpled to the ground. Smellerbee didn't need to check his pulse to know the man was dead. 

They took enough from the house, and Lee covered the body with a blanket before kicking away the barricade. They fled as quickly as they could. 

Later, they'd convened on a rooftop and Jet had snorted. 

"Someone's got daddy issues, huh?" He had asked, a malicious glint in his eyes. Smellerbee, in that moment, thought Jet was a fucking idiot, and an insensitive one at that. Really, why would he try to _provoke_ someone he suspected of being a Firebender? One that had just _killed a man without saying a single word?_

Lee had turned on him so sharply that Smellerbee feared for his neck. He had said, so low and dangerous that she felt chills, "If you ever speak of my father to me again, not a force in this realm, or in any others, will stay my hand from dropping you where you stand."

Surprisingly, in an apparent moment of actual self-preservation, Jet had shut up. He was scowling, and he had looked two seconds from snapping, but he remained silent. His tone had been crisp, so authoritative, _regal,_ that there was no room to argue. Smellerbee was thankful that it was Jet on the receiving end of that cold fury and not herself. Lee had left after that. 

A few nights later, she’d pulled him aside while Jet was distracted planning, which had earned her a confused glance from Longshot. Smellerbee had waved a discrete hand at them, and they nodded. 

Once they were out of Jet’s earshot, she’d looked him over curiously. Lee seemed lost, not sure why she’d dragged him away from the other two, and a little bit of a scared look was in his eye. Bee noticed that, sometimes. She noticed how easily Lee could shift from mischievous and nice, to lethal and cold, to awkward and scared, in a matter of moments. 

“That night,” she had started, her voice a whisper barely above the birds and insects of  _ that present  _ night, “with that family… you covered the body. Why did you do that?”

When she’d begun, she could pinpoint the moment he started throwing his defenses up, and then pinpoint again when they gave way to a standoffish confusion. 

“Why wouldn’t I? No child, regardless of what their parents are like, deserves to see the corpse of a family member unless they made it a corpse themself,” he explained, which, okay, was morbid as fuck. Before she could ask her next question, he was already answering it as if he'd read her mind, "It's also why I choked him to death, you know, instead of using my swords. If I was still a child, I don't think I'd want to have to scrub my Father's blood out of the floorboards."

(Looking back on it now, she really wants to have a conversation with whoever the fuck his family is, because she's starting to think they're more like the stereotypical Firebender's she's used to. )

Apparently, some of how disturbed she had been must have come across in her expression, because he had closed himself off again just as quickly as he’d opened up to explain himself. She’d put a hand on his forearm from where he’d crossed them in front of himself, and she’d sighed. 

“I’m not judging you, Lee, I’m just… worried about you, I guess?” she’d said, and hey, she never claimed to be the queen of eloquence. Maybe it was her turn on the awkward gene. He’d rolled his eyes, and somehow closed himself off even more. 

“Trust me… I’m not the type of person you should be worried about,” he’d said, worryingly, “I’m not the type of person  _ anyone _ should be worried about. People who get too close to me usually get hurt.”

After his cryptic words, he’d looked over at where the others were standing by a barrel fire, and no, she’d realized he was looking  _ at  _ the fire, not the people. 

Looking back on it now, with Longshot’s confirmation from last night, she can see that it was his weird way of warning her not to get too close to him. It was his way of telling her,  _ back off before you get burned yourself.  _

She's gotten so lost in her reminiscing that she doesn't realize Present Lee is presently trying to catch her attention until he waves a hand in front of her face. 

"Earth to Smellerbee? Everything okay in that head of yours?" He asks, and she realizes she'd been staring at him. He's making a disgruntled face, and she remembers he hates being stared at. 

"Yeah, yeah, was just thinking. 'S a lot going on," she says in lieu of an explanation, preferring not to bring that night up again. Firebender or not, Lee had the ability to be  _ terrifying  _ on the flip of a coin. 

"Yeah, there really is…" he agrees, propping his chin up on his palm, elbow on the table. He looks tired, she thinks, and knows Jet is the cause of that. 

If he really  _ is _ Fire Nation, then that also means that being any label of queer is illegal. And if he really is  _ like them, _ then he's probably got a lot on his mind right now. She wonders, idly, if maybe that's why they're refugees here in Ba Sing Se. Maybe he got caught with some other lover, and his supportive Uncle had whisked him away for a chance at a kinder life. A better life. 

She glances at his scar, and she's not stupid. To other Firebenders, or someone who doesn’t know what Firebenders are capable of, it might appear like a training accident, or some other runaway flame. To anyone who has ever been on or witnessed the receiving end of a Firebender's attack, however, the scar's shape is obvious. She wonders what he could have done for one of his own to turn on him. 

They chat as she thinks all these thoughts, and when his break ends she remains where she is. When he actually lets his guard down, he’s witty and cunning, but getting across that barrier of aggression, as well as all the “hms,” and “uhhs,” was like treading water in a storm. 

She watches him interact with the other patrons, jotting down orders and chatting with apparent regulars. He's as skittish as a hare, and his voice with people he doesn't know is stilted, awkward, and sometimes standoffish. She realizes he tends to be gentler around children, and there’s an elderly woman in one of the other corners that he sneaks extra sugar into her tea free of charge when his Uncle and the shop owner aren’t watching. More often than not, though, he seems like he just doesn't know what to do with himself. 

She realizes, as she watches him at work, that it's because he doesn't know  _ how _ to interact with people. When he had first joined their group, he was also awkward, but once he put on the mask, it was like he was someone else. Being human stopped mattering to him; by all intents and purposes, he became the Blue Spirit. 

She's now juggling these three different people in her mind, and trying to see how they can all be the same person. Smellerbee decides she wants to find out what makes him tick, what makes him different to every other Firebender she's ever met. 

Her mind comes reeling to a stop when she realizes, despite his being Fire Nation, despite his being an  _ ashmaker _ according to Jet and Longshot, that even with as much as she wants to _hate_ him, she also wants to give him a chance. She wants to see who he is beneath the stone cold walls and the stilted manner he's surrounded himself with. 

Smellerbee, immediately after her world-shattering realization, knows in her heart that she wants to keep him as far away from Jet, and Jet's plans, as she can.

A few hours after Smellerbee leaves, Zuko is helping to clean up the tea shop. He busies himself with sweeping and wiping down tables after his Uncle carries the dishes to the back. He’s debating if he wants to bother going out tonight, or if he wants to just crawl into bed and sleep for ten damn years. 

On the one hand, he wants to clear things up with Jet- obviously, the other boy was just teasing, right? He didn’t actually  _ mean _ anything towards Zuko. It doesn’t matter that things are different in the Earth Kingdom (he’d noticed  _ that _ when he’d been serving tea and two women had walked in holding hands and whispering to each other secretly, smiling the whole time), there’s no  _ way  _ that Jet would actually be flirting with  _ him,  _ right? 

On the other hand, if he was, Zuko wants to clarify it and where he stands with the other boy. He’s really just trying to figure out how he  _ himself _ feels about the other boy, too. Jet is, well, he’s attractive enough. Actually, scratch that, he’s  _ very _ attractive, physically that is.

However, Zuko isn’t sure how he feels about the rampant violent streak that runs through the Earth boy. He knows his past has its own bloodied history, but there are very few moments in his life where that violence was  _ intentional.  _ It was usually a case of people being in the wrong place at the wrong time; civilian casualties of war as he pursued his own targets. 

Somehow, looking at it like that makes it feel even  _ worse. _ He wonders why his Uncle never  _ stopped _ him, and then feels like an idiot when he thinks about how many times his Uncle  _ tried.  _

As they pack up shop and lock the door behind them, he keeps pace with his Uncle as they walk together back to their apartment. Looking over at him, the old man looks happier than Zuko has seen him in a long time, all things considered. Here, in Ba Sing Se, working for little coin, but content with what he has and with his Nephew by his side. 

Zuko finds a soft, grateful smile on his face as he turns to look ahead of them. He’ll stay home tonight, and isn’t that a surprising thought. He just referred to their little apartment as home. 

Out of the blue, he feels eyes on his back, and his skin crawls. He twists subtly, trying to find who might be watching them, but finds nothing. He thinks maybe it’s just a lingering paranoia; trouble follows them so swiftly, usually, that this peace he’s starting to create is nearly alien. 

By the time they close the door to their apartment for the night, neither Firebender notices Jet parkouring up to the roof across from theirs. Jet settles down, peering in at them like a cat owl. He  _ will _ get his proof, even if he has to carve through them to get to the fire inside them himself.


	3. Contradiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has a good day for once and should also never be trusted alone in a kitchen. Meanwhile, Smellerbee and Longshot grow more concerned for their leader's decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an adventure(read: struggle) because about halfway through I had to switch gears during an emo crash.  
> Anyways, u can tell I was craving donuts and still am

Iroh wakes in the morning to the smell of tea, and as he gets up and makes his way into the kitchen, he sees Zuko peering into the pantry with a lost expression. The tea pot is already set on the table, with two glasses set out for the both of them. The entire scene is enough to make the old Firebender pause. 

"Nephew? What is all this?" He asks, and Zuko jolts as if shocked. He turns around, eyes darting nervously around the room.

"I, uh, wanted to make breakfast since you always do… but I kind of realized I don't really know...how," he explains, glancing down at the floor as embarrassment floods through him. As a Prince, he'd never had to cook anything. He didn't think he _n_ _eeded_ to, considering it beneath him for a long time. Now, he wishes he knew how.

His Uncle is surprised, to say the least, but pleasantly so. These little gestures of kindness used to be the usual when Zuko was just a little boy, but after the Agni Kai, his spirit was damaged, as was his kindness. It is with this in mind that Iroh smiles warmly, encouragingly, at his Nephew, walking over to him. 

"What is it you want to make?" He asks, and Zuko finally meets his eyes with a hesitant smile. 

"Well, I was thinking…" And they went from there. 

The tea was slightly scorched, and more bitter than it should have been. The pastries they'd made together fared slightly better, although the bottoms are burnt a bit. It's the best breakfast Iroh has had in years. He wouldn't trade it for anything. 

Zuko doesn't make much eye contact during the whole morning, but he doesn’t pressure his Nephew into any interactions he doesn’t initiate himself. This is a vulnerability that shows itself very rarely, and he’d be a fool to shatter it. Who knows how long it will last, after all, before Zuko’s defenses come back up and he regresses back into the angry shell he’s created for himself. 

Zuko himself is pleased with the morning so far. He was feeling soft from the night before, and he’d woken with a lightness that had taken him by surprise. He had decided to ride the unusual wave of positive vibes until they decide to die, and so far he’s still bathing in it. Enjoying it runs the risk of attracting disaster, but he can’t always have the energy to go apeshit. Sometimes, it’s nice to just be nice for a little bit. 

The early light of dawn filters in through the open window, coating everything in a cozy golden glow, and they’re both surrounded by the chilled morning air drifting in on the breeze. The peaceful atmosphere draws Zuko’s mind back to years passed, when he was a young child. Early morning breakfasts with his Mother, her soft voice nearly lulling him back to sleep if not for the excitement to meet another day. 

His lips twinge up into a sad smile briefly, thinking of her, and he shakes his head to clear away his nostalgia. Today, Zuko wants to try and focus on the now, rather than the then. 

Standing up after they finish eating, he clears away the dishes and takes them into the kitchen to wash them. Zuko can hear his Uncle in the other room getting ready to head down to the tea shop. It’s one of their odd shifts today; his Uncle works, but he has the day off. 

Once the dishes are all washed, dried, and tucked away where they belong, he goes back out into the living room to wish his Uncle a good day as he tries to figure out what he’s going to do with his own day. An entire day off, and no plans to fill it. 

“Perhaps you could visit the library in town, Nephew; I’ve seen it draw your eye when we walk past it,” his Uncle says before he leaves, and as the door closes behind him as he leaves, Zuko considers it. 

After all, even if they don’t stay here forever, they do still have to stay here for now. It would be a good idea to educate himself on the local areas, the history (what hasn’t been outlawed, that is), and also he just craves something to stimulate his brain a little bit. Quite literally, it’s been years since he’s been able to _really_ sit down and read a good book. 

With that in mind he digs out a clean set of Earth Kingdom robes, peasant’s wears, and slips into them after freshening up a bit. He looks into the mirror in the little bathroom, blinking owlishly at how, over the past few weeks, he’s slid into the routine and position of just another Earth Kingdom citizen with relative ease (as easy as things can be for someone as stubborn as himself, that is.) He looks like he _belongs_ here. Where once the greens and browns had felt alien to him, they now feel familiar. 

Zuko frowns to himself as he realizes he’s becoming complacent _already,_ he’s settling for this place, accepting it as his home. _No, my home is the Palace. My home is in the Fire Nation,_ he thinks to himself. _Once I have the Avatar, I can go home and finally be with my family again._ His reflection says otherwise, and the boy that looks back at him from the mirror doesn’t seem convinced.

If he were really interested in going home, he'd be looking for the Avatar even now. He wouldn't be working a low-wage shift at a tiny tea shop, and dressing to go to the library.

“Well, what would _you_ know about it, _Lee?”_ He hisses at the reflection, and then promptly clicks his jaw closed as he realizes he’s literally arguing with _himself._ As much as he hates playing pretend, he has to in order to survive. He _is_ Lee, and Lee is him; trying to draw a distinction between them will only drive him into slipping, it will drive him into madness.

Zuko shakes his head, running a heavy hand through his short hair. Bounces on the balls of his feet a few times. Shakes his arms out. It takes a few more rounds of this before he clears his mind, determined to not ruin his day in a depressive spiral. He is going to the library in town, and he’s going to enjoy just reading about nerd shit. 

Hell, he might even stop by the bakery on the way to it and buy himself a few more pastries- something that’s mostly an Earth Kingdom thing, he’s noticed. Not _centric_ of course, but the Earth Kingdom definitely has a monopoly on the “these baked goods are the best things you’ll ever eat” market. 

There’s not even a remote chance that Zuko has gotten addicted to the sweets with little holes in the center, not at all. He’s _definitely_ not considering how, when someday he’s Firelord, how he’s going to import as many different types of those bad boys into the Fire Nation as he can manage, not even thinking about it. They go _great_ with tea, which he _also_ doesn’t really like. Absolutely no tea and definitely no donuts. Not in _his_ Fire Nation.

He ends up buying a dozen on his way to the library. They’re so sweet and they’re glazed with honey. Sue him, they’re addicting, alright? It takes all of his willpower not to eat all of them in one go. 

When he finally gets to the library, he tucks the pack into his travel satchel and licks as much of the honey off of his fingers until he can wipe the rest off on the inside of his robes. Internally, he can only _imagine_ the faces the Palace servants of his youth would have at his uncouth manner of cleaning himself up. 

It’s not like he had anything _bad_ on his hands, he thinks to himself childishly, as he makes his way into the library. No one bats an eye at him beyond a few gawks at his scar, which, yeah, he hates that but he’s used to it at this point. Glancing around, he notices a giddy feeling brewing in his chest as he takes in the sheer amount of books. He tries to pretend he’s here for _tactical cultural infiltration,_ but really he’s just excited to read a bunch of books and not be made fun of for it.

Making his way over to the nonfiction section, he finds a series of books; _Earth Kingdom Traditions and Culture: Ba Sing Se,_ as well as other major cities and petty kingdoms that fall under the kingdom’s capital rule. He grabs the one for Ba Sing Se, finds a secluded seat underneath a window, and dives in. 

Hours later, the sun is starting to set, letting in late evening glow, and there are half a dozen books scattered around the table. Zuko’s currently working his way through a book on hybrid grains and major earth kingdom crops. He was surprised that wheatcane wasn’t the only wheat hybrid that the kingdom had to offer, but he guesses it’s not _that_ surprising. Closing the book, he places the ones he’s finished on the table dedicated for reshelves, eyes a few crafting and cooking books, and Debates. 

Caught between feeling curiously stupid- _he’s the Crown Prince to the Fire Nation,_ for fuck’s sake- and being stupidly curious as well, he logics it out for a few minutes. _I’m not exactly living the high life here,_ he thinks to himself, and having a few (hobbies) practical talents could be helpful. His dao blades were proof enough of that. 

He grabs the cookbook, and the craft book, and holds onto the one he’d been reading about grains, and carries them to the front and checks them out. Ignoring the little voice telling him, yet again, that he’s becoming complacent, he signs up for a library card with them as well. He makes his way back to the apartment with the books in his arms, and a pleased smile fighting its way onto his face when he realizes he’s had a good day. _He_ , Zuko, Prince Zuko, had a good day.

He stops by a vendor on the way home and gets a few ingredients for a few different things he wants to experiment with. Hopefully he won’t accidentally burn the entire block down, with or without firebending. 

* * *

"Jet."

He ignores the voice trying to catch his attention, staring at the map he's got stretched out across a piece of tin propped on top of two barrels. It's a bit wobbly, and the tin has a few dents, but it works fine as a makeshift table. There are three candles and a lantern lit on each corner of it, so that he can give his plans absolute focus without straining to see.

"Jet."

He is _not_ going to acknowledge her, he's _not._ He's tired from spending whatever nights he's not "working" watching over Lee's apartment for any changes. 

He's tired of feeling like he's spinning in circles, playing pretend, when he _knows_ what he saw. Hell, even Longshot confirmed it! Once _Longshot_ confirms something, it's fact. He's just tired of waiting for physical, concrete evidence to use against the two Firebenders.

"Jet! If you don't listen to me, I'm going to kick your ass!" As if she would. However, he's tired of her nagging at him, and he turns sharply to face her at last. 

"What is it, Smellerbee?" Jet asks, voice clipped, and she frowns. There's a hesitation in her body language that belies her harsh tone and words. 

"I think you need to drop the...courting scheme...you've got going with Lee," she says after a moment, "there has to be other, better, ways of getting proof."

Jet shakes his head, somewhat disbelieving of what he's hearing. 

"Are you doubting me? He's _Fire Nation,_ Bee. You know as well as I do that they're excellent liars. Is he really _fooling_ you with the innocent refugee facade?" He asks, voice raising with each word that drops out of his mouth. She's sneering now, shaking her head. 

"I never said he wasn't a fucking _liar,_ Jet. I just think maybe _you_ should be handling this differently. 

"What he's done shouldn't affect _your_ behavior, and I fail to see how courting is the route you want to go. Why not just go for friends?" she asks, trying to pull her sharp anger into something calmer. Jet was a live grenade from time to time, and she doesn't exactly want to deal with a pulled pin right now. 

Smellerbee wouldn't admit it, but she'd had a lot of time to think; not just about Lee, but about her place with the Freedom Fighters. Perhaps, better worded, was _Jet's_ place on their team. 

She'd never admit it, but the Water Tribe boy, Sokka, had shaken her a lot so few months ago. That boy was from the _Southern Water Tribe,_ a place that _everyone_ knew of, if only secondhand. It had been _scourged_ by the Fire Nation, with barely any survivors in the grand scheme of things. 

Yet, despite that, Sokka had looked into Jet's eyes and told him he was _wrong._ Sokka, who of all people should have been ecstatic for their mission, had looked at them and turned his head. He had deliberately _countered_ their efforts. The _Avatar_ had turned against Jet, once he'd learned Jet's true intentions. 

Jet had preyed on the girl's heartache and empathy as well. He'd latched onto Katara, the water bender, and _preened_ under her fawning. He'd used her pain to get her to fall instantly into their ways. 

Ba Sing Se is supposed to be different. This is supposed to be a new chance for them, but she almost fears that Jet grows _worse._ His obsession with bringing down the Fire Nation is beginning to spread within him. It's festering, and corrupting everything it touches. 

He was a kind boy once, a sweet boy. There was once something in him that wasn't rotten, she thinks. She hopes. She remembers when they first met, when she was blinded by devotion to the boy who'd saved her life, how she'd have gladly leapt to do anything he asked. 

As he looks in her eyes now, telling her that luring Lee in with the false promise of _love,_ that preying on his insecurities and pains, is the best decision he can make in this situation, she can't help but wonder if she's sold her loyalty to someone who doesn't deserve it.

 _You need to stop spiraling so much. Your thoughts are very loud,_ a familiar, monotone voice breaks apart her inner monologue. It's whispered at the back of her mind, and it could have been imagined, but she doesn't bother with a response regardless. 

"Bee, listen, trust me, I don't like it either. If something else magically falls into my hands, I'll hand it right over to the authorities and we can call it done. Until then, though, we don't have any other choice. Friends is nice and all, but friends don't tell each other all their best kept secrets. Just friends don't trust each other with things.

"We have to make him believe he's one of us, and he's not really looking for just _friends_ here," Jet says, and she swallows down the rage that spikes at that.

 _"We?_ You, Jet. This is your plan, your actions, and I'm just along for the ride. I… _trust_ you, but what…" she scrambles to think of something, "what if _you_ get attached? Then what?"

He laughs at that, a snort at first before it devolves into full-bellied laughter, as if she'd just told him a good joke. 

"Oh, that's _rich_ , Bee. As it stands, if I could get away with it, I'd have the bastard and the old man he travels with burnt at the fuckin' stake," he says, chuckling darkly. 

"A fitting end that would be, wouldn't it? Two Firebenders, up in flames… well, Lee's already a quarter of the way there, isn't he?" He snorts at his own twisted joke, and Bee feels bile rise up in her throat. She struggles to choke it down as Longshot comes up next to her, narrowing their eyes at the two of them. They turn to Bee, tilting their head. She remembers that her thoughts are _very loud_ , so she tries to calm herself for their sake. They incline their head, appreciating the gesture. 

_Jet's slipping…_ She thinks to herself softly, and Longshot glances over at their fearless leader. They nod once, just slight enough to easily be missed if one doesn't know what they're looking for. Bee knows, and she sees it as the agreement that it is. 

Longshot draws Jet's attention to them, and the boy grimaces. 

"Not you, too, Longshot. Are you two _really_ going to take the sootwalker's side over _me?"_ Jet asks, standing suddenly, and he starts to pace. 

"Do I need to _remind_ you that when your village was burnt and they found out about what you could do, that it was _me_ who saved your life while they were trying to kill you?" He asks, voice dripping with venom, staring into Longshot's eyes. They cast their glance aside, not wishing to face their leader's criticism. 

"Or Bee. Do I need to remind you that when the Fire Nation took your home away from you, and you fled into the hills, who was it that found you _starving_ and took you in?" 

Smellerbee looks to the floor, thoroughly ashamed now. She knows she should trust Jet. He and Longshot were all she had left; they were _family_ . She _needs_ to trust him. 

So why does it leave such a sour taste in her mouth?

She thinks of Lee, face completely open, shocked, and so, _so_ vulnerable, when she'd told him his scar made him look badass and that it marked him as a _survivor._ She thinks of his scar. She thinks of his _scar,_ and how she's barely older than him. 

Before she can dwell for longer, Jet is putting on his game face. 

"Get ready to head out. We're going to pick up Lee and hit the town again. It's been long enough," he says, and Smellerbee can't ditch the dread that's creeping into her heart. 

Longshot keeps their eyes on Jet's back as he walks into one of the adjoining rooms in the warehouse, and they notice with an odd sense of foreboding, how the lantern flame glints off of Jet's hook swords. 


	4. Sensory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longshot has a lot on their mind, Zuko has no idea what he's doing, and Jet is...Jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I am astounded by the amount of attention this fic has gotten and I love you all 💗💗  
> Also, tw for some mild violence and Jet getting turned on. By the violence. Just a reminder to heed the tags if you've made it this far  
> EDIT: 08/03/2020 // Cleaned up a POV transition

Zuko's laying in bed when he gets a compulsion to step out on the balcony of their apartment. The faintest whisper of a voice at the back of his mind urges him out, and it would be off-putting if he wasn't used to it. True, it's an odd thing to be used to, but there's lots of things in his life at this point he just doesn't bother questioning anymore.

When he steps out, he's not surprised to see Longshot in the street, alongside Smellerbee and Jet. Grimacing internally, he holds up a hand in acknowledgement before he slips back inside. 

Zuko glances over at his Uncle, snoring and sound asleep, and sighs. He grabs something to leave a note, just in case, changes into day robes quickly, and grabs his travel satchel with his Blue Spirit disguise, and slips outside. 

Once he's next to the other three, he gives an awkward half-smile. 

"Hey," he says, for lack of anything else to say. He'd just woken up, after all, and sometimes thinking is hard enough when he's already awake. 

Jet grins, clapping him on the shoulder, just this side of too heavily. The wheat sprig in his mouth almost falls out when he says, "Heya, Lee, long time no see!"

It had been almost a week and a half since that last outing, hadn't it? Time is just flying by and Zuko is barely keeping up. 

"Hey, Jet," he says, a hesitant smile on his face. When his gaze turns to Smellerbee and Longshot, the smile becomes just a hair more genuine. 

Longshot's eyes still bore uncomfortably into his soul, but Zuko's learned that's just how he is. 

As if sensing what he's thinking, Longshot let's the tiniest wry smirk grace his face. He nods to Zuko, and the Prince would never admit how much the greeting from the usually stoic teen means to him.

When Zuko turns away, Longshot keeps their eyes on him. Longshot keeps their eyes on all of them, really, quietly observing each and every one of them.

Jet is silent, as usual, always difficult to get a read on aside from his raw anger. A few thing slip through from time to time, but mostly he is quiet. 

Smellerbee is loud, usually made up of anger the same as Jet, although in the past weeks her mind has been cluttered with confusion and a surprising amount of concern as well- all of it directed towards Lee. There's also a surprising amount of suspicion all directed towards Jet. 

Lee himself is a smorgasbord of thoughts and feelings. 

At any given moment, they can find anger in his mind, but there's also fear, confusion, and _hope._ That's the one that surprises them the most. Lee is always scared to let it grow, but he has so much hope in his soul it almost hurts him to hide it. 

Unlike Smellerbee, Longshot does not make a habit of visiting the boy at his job; they do not attempt to know him at all beyond what they can see and hear. 

As they all make their way down the street, with no job in mind for the night, only a late night hangout session, Lee's mind is moving a thousand miles an hour. 

One thing that had surprised Longshot when they'd first started digging around Lee's thought patterns, was how he thought of them. 

Lee looked at Jet with something that could possibly pass as respect, but was also clouded with an intrigue, an attraction, a fear, and an anger that painted their leader in an _interesting_ light, to say the least. 

When Lee looked at Smellerbee and themself, though, he had this fragile, _tiny_ little flicker of a thought that called them friends, and, well. Longshot is many things, but they aren't a monster.

There's a reason Longshot hasn't revealed Lee's true identity yet. Until Jet has tangible proof, there's no reason to give their leader fuel to antagonize the boy more.

Longshot likes to believe themself in possession of a solid moral compass. 

It is difficult to be completely on either side of a fight when one can sense what each side is feeling, believing, _thinking_ . Longshot doesn't have an _innate_ knowledge of a person's deepest parts, but shallow, surface level aspects that change constantly? They can sense those aspects. Smellerbee likes to joke that they're _reading minds_ , but it's somewhat more and _less_ complex than that. They can only see what someone wants them to see, or if the person doesn't know they can feel them out, or if they are prone to heightened, uncontrollable emotions. 

Lee and Smellerbee think _very_ loudly. Longshot's certain that if there were miles between the three of them, they'd still be able to hear the other two just because they're so damn loud. Not that anyone other than Smellerbee realizes how loud they are though. 

Bee has had to comfort them on more than one occasion where they get completely overwhelmed. _Most_ people have loud thoughts, after all, because most people don't realize anyone other than themselves can _hear_ what they're screeching out into the spirit world and beyond. 

The worst part of sensing, however, is that it's difficult to block out. Unlike true sounds, they can't just put on earplugs when they start to get too sensitive to the noise. They have to deal with it constantly, with only extreme self-control and meditation for hours. 

_I wonder if he's going to bring it up,_ Longshot hears Zuko think to himself. It is with this, that they pull back to block out the energies around them. They've learned enough for the moment being.

Zuko is watching the boy leading them, a little intrigued, a little nervous. So basically, the usual when it comes to being around Jet.

Jet is the picture of nonchalance, walking backwards in front of the other three, when he frowns suddenly. He pulls the wheat sprig from his mouth, tosses it to the side, and digs another out of his pack. So it _is_ wheatcane! Zuko feels bizarrely triumphant at being proven correct. 

Zuko notices Longshot's eyes have been on him for a while now, and tilts his head defensively- and curiously, if he's honest with himself. The quiet teen just nods at him, before turning his attention towards Jet. Okay, that definitely makes _perfect_ sense. Zuko has no idea what Longshot is even looking at him for, but alright. 

At least Longshot didn't do that usual "dodge and pretend I wasn't staring" that most people do. Longshot owned it with a nod. Longshot is a badass like that. 

If any of them notice Longshot's lips pull up into a momentary grin, no one questions it. 

"So, where are we going?" Zuko asks, and Jet shrugs. 

"What do you want to do, Lee?" Smellerbee asks, and Jet gives her a sharp look when Lee isn't paying attention to him. She frowns back. 

"Honestly? Uh… there's a park, I think, on the outskirts of town, and I, it's been a while since any of us have sparred. It could be a good place to just, y'know, hang out?" He says, voice trailing off into a question. He's not used to being included with their destinations, so he had to think fast. 

Fortunately, his suggestion is met with considering looks and another nod from Longshot. 

"Alright… alright, yeah, I think I know the park you're talking about. With the cherry trees?" Jet asks, and Zuko nods. That's the one, unless there's another park with cherry trees. It wouldn't be surprising, cherry trees are popular, but any park will work to be fair. He just doesn't feel like robbing someone tonight. Maybe another night, but he just wants to go to the park and spar for right now. 

They start making their way to the park, Jet leading the way (Zuko still isn't great at navigating Ba Sing Se at night) while Smellerbee and Longshot flank Zuko. It's their usual layout when they aren't fucking shit up. When they had first began, Zuko had felt defensive and on guard (why do they need to flank him? Are they worried he'll run?) Now, however, their presence next to him felt familiar, and almost comforting in a bizarre way. He knows his heart is going to be sore for ages once they find out who he is, because at this point he knows he's going to fuck up and slip. 

Longshot glances over at him, and they realize that maybe they can see what Smellerbee has been talking about. The boy is so soft, underneath his rage, and underneath his _pain._ Dressed like he is, Longshot can almost pretend that _Zuko_ really is one of them. That he's just an earth kingdom boy who's been hurt by the war as much as anyone else.

 _But it's not that far off either, is it?_ They ask themself, but they decide not to follow that train of thought. Instead, they listen to their friends. 

For the time being, at the very least, Lee falls under that label. 

They get to the park and sneak in, too late at night for the gates to be open anymore. They snicker at each other and grin as they slip down one of the trails, following the one with the least sign of footfall. 

"Be quiet, be quiet!"

"Shush! We don't know if there's any guards or not!"

"Alright, alright, I don't see anyone," Jet finally says, and Longshot gives a short nod in confirmation. There aren't any security guards around at the moment, at the very least. They settle in a little clearing just off the path, and Jet spins his hook swords around in a spiral, releasing the tension in his wrists. 

Across from him, Smellerbee has her own blades drawn, preferring to use twin daggers instead of longer weapons. She finds her best tactical approach has always been easier when getting up close and personal. The daggers allow her movements to be more fluid than if she was wielding larger weapons. Readying her stance, she smirks at Jet.

Zuko watches as Jet strikes forward, trying to keep her from getting close to his form. He realizes they both fight with very solid stances, grounding themselves to keep from being pushed back. It's incredibly earth-like, if he really thinks about it.

Bee feints to the right before ducking beneath one of Jet's swings, jamming the dull hilt of her right-handed dagger lightly into his ribs. 

"Dead," she says, and the two of them fall back to reestablish their beginning stance. This is their sparring method; each of them will fight one another for three rounds until one was pronounced "dead." Once they have all sparred each other at least once, they will lay around and talk.

"Dead," Jet says, hook sword laying at an angle against Smellerbee's collar- a fatal hit if they were genuinely fighting. 

In their last round, Jet wins again. Bee snorts, tells him he just got lucky, and they fall back to let Longshot and Zuko step up. 

Longshot prefers their bows typically, but one can't really _spar_ with a bow. So, they choose to use no weapon and go with hand-to-hand combat. Zuko follows their lead, setting aside his dao blades on a stone before drawing a charge. 

The two of them circle each other for a moment or so, before Longshot strikes first. Longshot has to zero in on their own movements so as to not accidentally cheat. In true battle, being able to see an attack coming before it lands is helpful. In sparring like this, however, it's not as fun and just makes them feel like a spoilsport. There's the additional benefit of it acting as a mental training exercise. 

Longshot gets Zuko trapped in a headlock, and clicks their tongue to imitate a snapped neck. _Dead._

They release him, and Zuko edges the clearing, wipes sweat off his brow, and grins. Sparring like this is cathartic, especially as a firebender- being unable to bend leaves him with an unbearable amount of pent-up energy, and fighting like this helps expel it some. It isn't quite the same as bending, but the exertion feels good in his blood. 

He leaps forward, blocking a hit with his forearm as he kicks at Longshot's legs, dropping them to the grassy earth with a thud. He drops with them, forearm to their throat as he pins their hands with the other hand. 

"Dead," he says, grinning, as he helps Longshot to their feet. 

This goes on for some time, until finally, it's Jet against Zuko. Smellerbee is subconsciously gripping the knees of her pants a bit tighter as the two boys go up against each other. 

Zuko has barely had a chance to finalize his own stance when Jet drives forward, and Zuko leaps deftly to the side of the jab, and parries another strike that follows immediately after. 

Jet is good, giving it his all, but Zuko has trained with a master for his early formative years. His blades are an extension of himself, like his bending, and he's pushing Jet to the edge. It's their final round, and he's "killed" Jet twice now. 

Longshot suddenly sits up straighter where they sit next to Bee, hearing a solitary word come across the wavelengths from Jet's end. 

_Bastard,_ Jet thinks to himself with venom, as something a little bit manic enters his eyes. He lunges forward harshly, and catches Lee's leg with the hook. 

Lee yelps as he drops to the ground, and Jet straddles him. Crosses his swords across Lee's throat. Grins, a harsh, aggressive thing across his face. He leans down, right next to his ear, and whispers, "Looks like you're _dead_ , baby."

Zuko feels chills go down his spine, an unpleasant mixture of confusion, fear, excitement, and adrenaline. 

Jet's pupils dilate as leans back up, swords still crossed across Lee's throat, and he stares down at the other boy's face. Sitting here, like this, seeing how _vulnerable_ the Fire Nation boy is, it would be _so easy_ to slit his throat. It's _tempting._ It is so, so tempting. 

"Jet..? Lee asks, voice quiet and his nerves are _audible._

He stands up after another moment, hand reaching out to help Lee up. 

Zuko takes it, and he's a little unnerved when Jet doesn't let go. The earth boy just keeps staring at him with this unsettling gaze, tiny smirk on his face as he checks him out. 

"Good fight, _Lee,"_ he says, voice drawing out his name like it had that first day in the tea shop. He drawls over it like he knows it's a lie. 

Zuko, unsure what he's supposed to do, doesn't pull his hand away as Jet just keeps holding his hand. He kind of wants to. He _really_ wants to, but, it also feels kind of, nice? 

Zuko is seriously touch-starved, alright? Jet's hand is warm, calloused, and bigger than his own, and he's not sure if it would be rude to pull away either. 

Smellerbee blanches a little bit when she sees their conjoined hands, but she smothers it with a clap on Lee's shoulder. 

"Two out of three isn't bad, Lee! That was one hell of a show!" She says, grinning at him, ignoring how Jet raises a brow questioningly at her. 

Longshot nods, and they stand up from the rock they'd been sitting on.

Before they can begin their post-spar tradition of laying around chatting, they see a lantern light approaching. 

"Hey! What are you kids doing out here?" A stern voice shouts at them, and the teenagers all share a look, a grin, before they take off into the woods along the edge of the path, running until they find another path and make their way out of the park. Jet holds onto Lee the entire time, letting the glee of having so much power over the other boy get into his head. 

Destroying these two ashmakers is becoming a lot more fun than he ever expected. 


	5. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zuko has a Rough Day, Iroh worries constantly, Jet does some shady shit, and Smellerbee is tired of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo what's up gamers it's been like two months since i updated haha rip lmfao i promise i didn't forget about yall <3 shit just sucks major ass sometimes and I've been riding my own personal shitbull in the rodeo of life. this chapter was written entirely while having a manic depressive episode, as a quality heads up(although that's like the norm lmao) this is ALSO my longest chapter yet, topping out at ALMOST two thousand more words than usual
> 
> tw: Zuko dissociates p badly, ACCIDENTAL s/lf-h/rm (kitchen accident), referenced homophobia, vague implications of possible abuse, and Zuko has a panic attack.

The next day is picturesque on the surface, something that could easily be captured on a canvas. The sun peeking through the cracks and edges, around the alleys and across the parks illuminates everything in a golden green glow. The morning dew catches the sun rays in their watery grasp, making everything appear to sparkle and shine. 

Zuko cannot bring himself to appreciate it as he usually does. He is still laying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he watches the light of dawn steadily creep in through the window. He never could fall asleep after getting home last night, too worked up over whatever had been in Jet's eyes. 

Idly, he reaches up to his throat and runs his fingers along the irritated scratches left from where Jet's swords had been crossed. He shivers at the realization of how close he was to  _ dying _ last night, if Jet had been just a hair bit more unhinged, if he’d applied just a tiny bit more pressure against his pulse-point. 

Something in the back of his mind shifts, something he wants to say feels like a thought but isn't quite. He ignores it, even as it whispers in his own voice but not,  _ he needs to leave Jet behind before he gets hurt. _

It's nothing he hasn't already thought to himself, but the feeling at the back of his mind causes every hair to stand on end and he forces himself to stand and start getting ready for the day. It's going to be a long day at the tea shop, he can already feel it, and he wants to get a head start if he's going to be awake anyways. 

His limbs feel like lead as he shuffles into the kitchen, and he clenches his hands a few times to try and bring his energy back down into his own body. He feels displaced, disconnected, and he shakes his hands out when clenching them fails to help. When Zuko looks down at his hands now, he realizes with a start that they don't really feel like his own. Who else's would they be though? They're _obviously_ his hands!

He realizes he's thought of the word "hand" far too many times, so he shrugs uncomfortably and tries to ignore the feeling of wrongness and goes about making himself and his Uncle something easy and sweet. He's been craving sweets when he isn't craving pure salt- that is, when he's not just craving straight up bread. 

He's not really sure if it counts as a breakfast food, but he decides to make rice pudding alongside some diced up fruit and leftover honey-glazed rolls from yesterday's breakfast. There's no way he can butcher something as simple as rice pudding and cutting up some fruit, and food that's already been cooked is definitely not an issue.

He'll leave the tea making to Uncle though. His Uncle is a good man, but he cannot completely hide the way his soul exits his body in force everytime he tries Zuko's tea. It never upsets him, because frankly, his soul does the same thing when he tries any tea that he makes himself.

It's as he's slicing a few apples when the paring knife slips, and his not-hands hands-that-are-definitely-his don't even recognize the pain as he stares down at his hand that's now bleeding all over his apple. 

_ Well, at least I already finished Uncle's fruit,  _ he thinks to himself distantly, but even his thoughts feel muffled as he stares at the cut. Zuko is fully aware he should be bandaging his hand right now, he needs to walk his legs into the washroom, clean it, and wrap it. He can't get his legs to follow his orders though, and he's trapped just staring down at his hand, subconsciously swaying slowly side-to-side.

_ Turn the stove off and go clean this, _ the his-voice not-his-voice says somewhere in his mind, and having the clear directive pushes him into motion. He takes the pudding off the burner with his clean hand, then suffocates the little flame somehow. Zuko's pretty sure he used a tool for it and not his bending, but he doesn't remember as he's suddenly in the bathroom with no memory of having walked in there from the kitchen. 

His hands are moving, wrapping a clean bandage around his already clean hand, and huh. He doesn't remember doing that either- cleaning the cut, that is. 

Idly, he wonders if Jet, Smellerbee, and Longshot ever forget what their hands are like. He's pretty sure it's not something that's supposed to happen. 

At least it's a break from the anger he always feels, but he can't feel  _ anything. _ If he's being honest, it's a little terrifying. 

It's not the first time this has ever happened, of course, but in the past he'd had people and noises surrounding him- his crew, Song and her family, Li and his family, the sound of the ocean, the chicken-pigs crowing, something to bring him back down.

Right now, his Uncle is asleep in the other room and Zuko doesn't want to bother him with silly issues like feeling like a stranger in his own body. He stumbles back into the kitchen, ramming his left shoulder onto the doorframe and hissing as he's snapped back into his body. 

"..hn...Nephew? Are you alright?" He hears his Uncle call from the living room, and Zuko has the urge to start laughing, possibly a little manically.  _ Spirits, _ he needs sleep. However, he can't ignore the irony that his Uncle is awake as soon as Zuko snaps out of whatever weird funk he'd gotten stuck in. 

"I'm okay, Uncle, just making breakfast and I ran into the doorframe," he says back, raising his voice enough so the old man can hear it from the kitchen. 

It's quiet for a moment before his Uncle makes his way into the kitchen, eyes fixing on where Zuko is discarding the bloodstained fruit. The pudding is being reheated, and Zuko is proud to say he managed to re-light the fire with the spark rocks while wielding a bandaged hand. 

"Is your hand alright, Nephew?" His Uncle asks, concern layered thick into his voice, and Zuko looks down at it. He flexes his fingers a little bit, glad to realize they feel like  _ his. _

"Well, it doesn't need stitches or anything like that. The knife just slipped while I was making breakfast," he says, and his Uncle watches him with a critical eye. He's probably trying to figure out the best way to not allow Zuko into a kitchen without Adult Supervision, if the teen had to make a guess. 

Iroh sets up the kettle on the burner once the pudding is done and Zuko is focusing on spooning it out onto their plates. He watches his Nephew shuffle around, the boy's good eye going distant from time to time. There are two scratches across his throat, long and irritated and almost perfect mirrors of each other. Contact with swords, if the old War General knew anything about injuries like that, and he did.

He knew  _ far _ too much about injuries like that. He also knows someone that Zuko hangs around that wields dual swords.

"So how are things between you and that Jet boy?" He asks conversationally, and Zuko chokes on air and flushes a bit before he manages to compose himself. Interesting… 

"It's, uh, fine, yeah. He's cool," Zuko says, looking like he wants the earth to swallow him right then and there. There's also an edge of fear in his eye, and Iroh… Iroh doesn't like that look being aimed in his direction. He's had his suspicions about Zuko's interests for a while, particularly in regards to how he turns down almost every girl that flirts with him or that Iroh tries to set him up with- that is, when he even notices what's happening, of course. 

Iroh has also seen how sometimes his Nephew's gaze will  _ linger, _ a bit, on their more masculine patrons in the tea shop. 

The idea that Zuko thinks he should be  _ afraid _ of what Iroh might think of that hurts him more than he's willing to admit out loud right now. He tries to think of the best way to broach the subject, to make it clear that he loves his Nephew and will always love him no matter what, but it just isn't the right time yet. He doesn't know how to bring it up without scaring Zuko more, and so he resolves to let Zuko be the one to bring it up first. 

He hopes he doesn’t come to regret that decision. 

“Well, I’m glad to know you have friends your own age here. They treat you kindly?” Iroh asks, prying just slightly, and he doesn’t think Zuko even realizes when he reaches up to gently rub along his throat. 

“Yeah, Smellerbee and Longshot are really cool, too,” he says, gaze distant again. Zuko frowns, looking down at his now-empty plate, and his Uncle tries his best to interpret what that frown means. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know what specifically is troubling his Nephew, and so he’s forced to drop the subject when it’s clear that Zuko doesn’t want to talk anymore about his three friends- or perhaps, his two friends and whatever the boy is to him. 

Instead, he starts telling a story about one of his travels that he hopes will keep Zuko distracted from whatever is troubling him so deeply. 

Thankfully, it seems that his Nephew is ready for the distraction. 

  
  


Jet is alone when he walks into the shady tavern on the outskirts of the Lower Ring, and he resists the urge to put his hands on the hilts of his blades immediately when dozens of eyes look up at him all at once. It’s a reasonable response, he thinks; this is the type of location that claims to be one thing while being a farce for a completely different crowd. 

He’s here to meet with a “traveling merchant,” some Earth Kingdom snake who does a lot of underground trading in the Fire Nation colonies as well as the Earth Kingdom. 

Jet’s been digging around for a good week and a half, dropping lines in the right crowds, waiting for someone to take the bait. After going through two different people who laughed at him trying to play ‘big kid,’ and one man who seemed so conniving that Jet wasn’t even willing to attempt bartering with him, he’s now here to talk to this man and he is hoping this will be the last, for lack of a better term, interview he has to do with some random conman. 

In the go-betweens and messages swapped, they’d agreed on ordering the same elaborate drink so the bartender would know to seat them near each other, and the woman behind the counter seems to be entirely too used to handling potentially-and-almost-definitely illegal behavior as she sits him in a poorly-lit corner booth with the man. It’s almost disgustingly cliche how illicit the entire scene appears. 

Despite the atmosphere of the tavern, the man in front of Jet is surprisingly well-dressed and put together, and is eyeing Jet as a potential business partner instead of just a child, or worse, a toy. 

“I’ll admit, given your knowledge of the Underground, I was expecting someone a bit older,” he says when Jet questions him about it, somewhat surprised, “but we’re in the middle of war. Kids don’t get the chance to be kids anymore.”

Jet already had more respect for this man than he did half the people he’d crossed paths with in all of the Lower Rings. He introduces himself, and the man nods with a smirk. 

“Name’s Tongan, and since you seem to be a smart young man who knows what he wants, let’s get right into it. So you’re interested in… Fire Nation paraphernalia? That’s a bit of an unusual request, you know,” the man, Tongan, says, voice hushed appropriately for such a conversation. Jet smirks, sharp toothed and defensive. 

“It’s not paraphernalia; I’m interested in Fire Nation  _ Wanted  _ posters. I’ve been keeping tabs on some particular refugees. I could swear on my eternal spirit that they’re Fire Nation, and  _ big names _ at that, but I can’t for the life of me remember their names. I know I’ve seen their faces before, though.”

Tongan looks contemplative at Jet’s explanation, and clicks his teeth idly. “You seem pretty convinced, so I can definitely keep an eye out for the posters. I will say though, it will look a bit suspicious if I just show up and get caught tearing down wanted posters. I’ll need a description of the specific subjects you’re interested in the posters for, if they even exist, and some… bargaining fuel.”

“Name your price in gold and you’ll have it within a fortnight,” Jet says immediately, already mapping nobles and Upper Class pricks to go after for whatever price Tongan throws out. 

The Merchant raises a brow at Jet, fighting a knowing smirk, as he throws out his highly gouged price. 

Hey, if the kid is  _ offering,  _ who is he to lowball himself? Going into the Fire Nation, even the colonies, is dangerous!

Jet grinds his teeth a bit but nods without a beat of hesitation. “It will be yours. As for the subjects, I’m interested in the Blue Spirit posters, as well as posters for two men…” 

And so he tells Tongan of the appearances of the two Firebenders, and he watches a puzzled expression click into vague recognition on the trader’s face. 

“You’ll, ah… yes. It should be simple enough for me to get you those posters, granted I get the gold and don’t get caught.” 

Jet smirks. “A pleasure doing business with you, then.” 

Smellerbee is perfectly content stretched out in the window corner booth of Lee’s workplace, cup of warm chamomile tea cradled in her hands as she watches Lee move around the tea shop with a stilted, uncomfortable gait. It had taken some convincing for Longshot to let her visit, but she’d been worried about Lee. She scowls down at her tea, shaking her head lightly. Her,  _ Smellerbee,  _ was worried about the damned  _ Firebender. _ Despite her inner conflict, she couldn’t shake how  _ afraid _ the boy had been when Jet didn’t seem to be backing off last night. She couldn’t shake how uncomfortable Jet had made  _ her _ just by witnessing his behavior. 

Longshot could also argue until they were blue in the face, but Bee  _ knows  _ that something happened last night, something they heard, that made them lose a bit of their trust in Jet as well. Something cracked that blind faith just a little bit more. 

She doesn’t even notice that Lee is taking his break until he sits down across from her, a cup of chamomile in his own hands. He stares into it a little shyly for a few moments before he glances up at her, awkward as ever. “Are you okay? You’ve been very angrily staring, uh, at your tea. It’s probably getting cold, you know?” 

It’s comments like that, little concerns that Lee so earnestly puts forward, the  _ care _ he shows; it’s those little things that makes her realize why she cares about this damn firebender so much. 

She wonders, perhaps not for the first time, but certainly close enough to the first time to be concerning, what the Fire Nation teaches their children. She wonders if maybe the Fire Nation is just as scared of the Fire Nation as everyone else is. 

Every nation has it’s little people, after all, and it’s selfish pricks at the top. Bee finds herself grateful, perhaps just a little bit, that Lee was lucky enough to get out and find himself  _ here _ instead of in the Fire Nation. Regardless of his birthplace, or even his bending, he’s kind and he tries to help people and she thinks that, maybe, that’s enough. 

“I will be. I’m not… not really okay right now, but I  _ will _ be. Just got a lot of different things on my mind, you know?” She finally answers with a bitter smile, and he shoots back a wry one of his own. 

“Trust me, I definitely know,” he answers her rhetorical question, and she doesn’t doubt for a bit that he knows. He’s here in Ba Sing Se, he’s probably had to leave behind everything he’s ever known, he’s in a location where everyone  _ hates _ him, and where he’d quite literally be  _ killed _ if he was discovered. 

The thought of Lee being executed fills her with a surprising amount of despair and alarm, and she reaches out impulsively and takes his hand in hers. His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t jerk away like she was expecting him to do. He doesn’t jerk away like he’d have done a few weeks ago because, for some damned reason, this sad, awkward, hurt boy trusts her. He trusts her despite everything she’s said about his Nation and his home and his people; despite everything she’s inadvertently said about him, he’s sitting there across from her, letting her hold his hand. 

It’s not a romantic gesture, and she’s pretty sure he knows that as well, but she laces their fingers together regardless and squeezes his hand in as much of a comforting way as she can manage. 

“You know you’re my friend, right?” she asks, and the look on his face is almost heartbreaking in its expression at that moment. Lee looks shocked, hopeful, and so vulnerable. His expression is also somewhat resigned, as if he’s awaiting the inevitable. 

Like he knows he’s going to lose her when she finds out his real identity. 

Well, tough shit on that, because she already knows, and despite every rational thought that she’s not quite sure are as rational as she thought they were, Lee is her friend and she’s not going to let him go that easily. 

“I mean it,  _ Lee,”  _ she drags his name out a little bit, trying to drop a hint, trying to get him to understand, “ _ you _ are my  _ friend. _ I care about you.”

His good eye widens just a bit more, and she didn’t even realize it was possible to look as genuinely surprised as he did in that moment, before his expression shutters into something else that he doesn’t seem to know how to process if the confused grimace he’s making is any indication. 

“You wouldn’t like me if you… you wouldn’t, you shouldn’t! You shouldn’t, you don’t know me, you don’t- you,” he stumbles over his words, and she realizes he’s starting to have a panic attack, and a split second later  _ another  _ realization hits when she remembers how odd he was behaving earlier. He’s been staving this one off, then. She holds onto his hand with a death grip as he tries to pull away from her once, twice, before he reverses tactics and latches onto her hand for dear life. She sets her tea down as carefully as she can as she stands up and moves around the other side of the booth, jerking his arm with her as she moves, and her free hand fritz around frantically as she tries to figure out how to comfort him. 

The old man, Lee’s Uncle, comes up to them when he notices the commotion and he’s instantly full of worry, and Lee starts lashing out, but he isn’t letting go of Bee’s hand despite it.

“Fuck, fuck, you, fuck you, you don’t know  _ shit,”  _ he’s saying to himself, and she looks up at Mushi with a pleading look. 

“He needs to go home, he can’t work like this. I know you have your shift here; if you’re comfortable with me doing it, I could take him home for you,” she offers, and he nods shakily. 

“When he gets angry… and he will, anger is his immediate go to when he gets like this, know he will not hurt you. Anger is his defense, but it is also easy to break through if he trusts you. When he gets angry, please do not leave him alone,” Mushi asks of her and tells her, wishing he could go himself but she knows that _he_ knows he  _ has  _ to work to pick up the slack for the shifts that Lee has missed lately. Some of those shifts are her and her fellow Freedom Fighters, she knows, and she contemplates spacing their gigs a bit better for Lee’s sake. 

She nods to Mushi, knowing all too well how cruel anger could be the best defense mechanism when it worked. She wouldn’t abandon him so soon after telling him she cared about him.

Smellerbee pulls Lee to his feet and he stumbles, shaking his head and  _ growling, _ and she shakes the unsettled feeling off as she pulls him into resting his slight weight against her own for support. She hadn’t realized how  _ thin _ he was until now, where she can feel how light he is against her. 

He’s just making growling, grumbling noises right now, in between lashing out and telling her how much she’s going to regret this, how much he “fucking hates her” but she can also hear how his voice gives when he tries to say it, so it’s not too hard for her to ignore it when he’s obviously lying. 

When they get to the apartment the two Firebenders share, she pesters him into unlocking the door or else she says she’s going to pick the lock. His hands are shaking as he tries to unlock the door, and he curses aggressively when he almost drops the key. Finally, blessedly, the door slides open, and as soon as the door is closed and locked again, she bodily forces him onto his bed once he tells her which one is his. His entire body is shaking, actually, now that she can really tell. 

He’s also still holding onto her hand, despite his heated remarks and cruel words. 

“Are you done?” she asks bluntly when he seems to be struggling to find something horrible and mean to say to her.

“You’re a bitchy little peasant, aren’t you?” he hisses, then seems to immediately regret it when he remembers that ‘peasant’ is both a very unusual insult unless you’re some stuffy noble knob, and also he’s not much higher up at the current moment. She smirks wryly at that, raising a brow. 

“I think being called peasant by a fellow refugee has to be the most creative part of that,” she says, electing not to focus on  _ why _ he said peasant when it had clearly caused his panic to sharpen drastically when he’d realized what he said. He just closes his mouth, opting to stare down at the floor. He  _ does _ try to wiggle his hand loose though, and from what she can see of the downward side angle she’s seeing his face from, he looks guilty, and so damn upset it’s making her own heart hurt for him. 

“Hey, look at me.  _ Look at me,”  _ she shakes his arm up and down until he finally looks at her, irritated at how she’d jerked his arm. His good eye is suspiciously wet, and he huffs before letting out a gentler sigh, once again resigned. She frowns, not sure how to handle this situation at all. She’s not a master of emotions, and  _ especially  _ not at helping people with them! She’d probably have a cushy job as some kind of therapist if she was. 

She decides to just rip the bandage off and get right to it. It may be the best way to handle this, given his panic seems to be stemming from her presumably not knowing what he is or where he’s from.

“I know you’re Fire Nation, you know, and a Firebender,” she says it quietly, and immediately regrets her delivery of it when he tries to jolt away from her and he starts hyperventilating when she tightens her grip on his hand and grabs his other arm with her free hand, forcing him to stay still in front of her.

“I don’t, I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re lying! I’m not!” he says, and his lying is about as convincing as a four year old toddler with a cookie in hand trying to pretend they didn’t steal the cookies meant for tomorrow’s party. What makes her feel the worst about the way she handled this, is the actual terror in his face. He’s  _ terrified _ right now, and when she sees the telltale glistening of tear tracks streaming down his face, she thinks to herself,  _ ah, shit. _

“Listen to me,  _ listen to me! _ I’ve known, I’ve known, I don’t  _ care.  _ I wasn’t lying earlier in the tea shop, Lee! I care about you. You’re my friend. I care so much it’s fucking ridiculous,” she says, pulling him into her chest for a strong one-armed hug, given that one of each of their hands is still preoccupied. He flails against her for a moment, before her words seem to finally process into his thick ass skull. He gasps, a little choked up sound in the back of his throat, as he slowly moves his free arm around her in return. 

“You mean it..?” he rasps out in question, voice ladled with such a tiny, quiet, and fragile hope that she would literally kick her own ass if she fucked that up somehow. 

“I absolutely mean it. You grew on me, kind of like a fungus, but! You did grow on me. You don’t have to be anyone else with me that you don’t want to be. You can just be Lee at the Tea Shop with me if you want to. You don’t owe me your life story, and I won’t demand it.”

He sniffles, and she can feel the tears dripping down onto her shoulder as he cries.  _ Silent crier, _ she thinks to herself,  _ I wonder who taught him how to cry that quiet. _ It’s a dark thought. She remembers what the Blue Spirit did to the man who struck his child. She remembers the lethality the boy crying onto her shoulder holds in his body. 

She has a few pretty good guesses as to who taught Lee to cry silently, and she would like to exchange _words_ with each of them. 

When he pulls back, she smiles at him. He’s still crying, and he uses his free hand to wipe at the tears that are just steadily pouring out of his eye like a sad waterfall. 

“Sorry I said such awful things to you…” he said, and she snorts a little bit. If her own eyes are a little watery and her own voice is just a tad choked up, so be it. No one has to know but her and Lee. 

“I didn’t believe a single one of the words you said, so it’s okay. You’re forgiven. Besides, half of them weren't even creative,” she says, and he seems lighter than the world. He mellows back out after a moment though, tilting his head at her. There’s that tinge of panic again, like he refuses to believe he can have nice things. 

“You’re...sure you’re alright with me being… you know, an  _ ashmaker?”  _ he hisses out, looking down at his hands like he himself, at the ripe old age of 16, was  _ personally _ responsible for every massacre that had happened in the last century. 

“Well, you’re not an ashmaker unless you’re burning shit to the ground,” she says it lightly, but his jaw sets, his lip wobbles just a little, his eyes get suspiciously damp again, and his shoulders hunch. He lets out a shaky breath.

“I’m not… I wasn’t always a good person, Smellerbee… I’ve fucked up, like, a lot. I don’t have a very nice past…” he says it quietly, tensed like he’s waiting for his admission to be what drives her off. 

Sure, she’s not exactly  _ comforted _ by the thought that he  _ used  _ to be an ashmaker, but… “Well, you’re here now though, and you’re not living in your past anymore, right? New starts and all that?” 

Her voice sounds shaky to her own ears, and he gives her a bitter smile. “Yeah… new starts. Thank you, Smellerbee…”

“Bee.”

“What?” Lee glances around, as if expecting an actual bee. She snorts, shaking her head.

“No, dumbass, Bee. You can call me Bee. You’ve earned that privilege, I think,” she explains, and she’s thrown him for a loop again. His mouth twists up into a tiny smile, drops slightly, but then stretches out again into a much larger, brighter grin. It lights up his entire face, makes him look his age, and makes him appear softer. 

“To new beginnings, then?” Lee asks, holding up her hand in his own.

“To new beginnings!” Bee shoots back easily, brightly, shaking his hand to make a promise of it.


	6. Melancholy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Scrabble is played, tears are shed, and everything is changing so fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is over 6k words of mid-breakdown stream of conscious projecting, but im oddly pleased with it too. it took last chapter's title as the longest chapter so far as well, totaling at about the length of two usual chapters
> 
> tw: accidental s//lf-h//rm (kitchen accident 2.0), discussions of dissociation, self-loathing, mild existentialism

When Iroh steps into the apartment late that night, after a long shift of worrying about his Nephew, he isn't sure what sight he's expecting. Perhaps he was expecting to find Zuko alone after all, curled up asleep. Perhaps he was expecting the place to be burnt down, albeit it would have been accidental. Perhaps, even, he was expecting his Nephew to be still in the throes of whatever was hurting him. 

Whatever he was expecting, what greeted him was not it, and pleasantly so. His heart warms so suddenly and so quickly that for a moment he fears he's lit ablaze without even intending to. 

"Hello, Uncle!" Zuko looks up at him with a smile, a small, fragile, but _real_ smile, one that Iroh has not seen in a very long time on his young face. The boy is currently sitting on the foot of his bed, the wooden pieces of some board game propped into a little stand in front of him. At the head of his bed sits the girl, Smellerbee, with her own stand of letters. Between them both is a board, with a creative and branching string of words crossed all over it. 

"She figured out where we're from," his Nephew says while Iroh is still trying to take in the scene, and his eyes widen as he fixes the girl with a surprised stare. She's looking at him critically, as if trying to figure out if he's a threat. So, he relaxes his surprised posture and gives an easy smile. 

"I will admit this is a surprise, but such is life, and this is at least a good surprise, I believe! I know how it pained you to have to hide yourself away, Nephew. Having a friend will certainly help," he says, and Zuko softens at about the same time Smellerbee's face transitions from skeptical to thoughtful. 

Iroh remembers this is the girl he'd mistakenly misgendered on the ferry, and resolves to be better about such mistakes in the future. After all, assumptions can do quite a bit of damage, even when unintentional. He reasons that, between them being Fire Nation and her previous vocal distrust of the Fire Nation, and with his misgendering her, she had due reason to be suspicious. 

"Would either of you care for tea? I have many different blends," he says, adding on the last bit for her. They both nod, voicing a shared desire for chamomile, and he remembers that neither child had the opportunity earlier to finish their tea at the shop. 

As he makes his way into the kitchen, he overhears the two of them "whispering" to each other.

"He really wants tea? Don't you two _both_ work in a tea shop?"

"I _told_ you he really loves tea! I wasn't exaggerating!"

"I thought you _were!_ How many blends is _many?"_

"...how many types of tea are there, actually? Probably that many."

Iroh smiles to himself and pretends he doesn't hear them for now. He's thrilled beyond words that the friendly bickering is something he can witness after so long of his Nephew being in pain, in fear, and so angry he wouldn't let people close to him. He's happy that he seems to have found at least one friend that he can be himself, or at least a modicum of himself, around. He also knows that this peace will be short lived due to his Nephew’s struggles with his own beliefs and traumas, but hopefully he’s on the right track.

Listening as the two return to their game, he makes them all something to eat as well, given none of them have probably had a proper meal all day, and allows his mind to be truly at ease for the first time in a long while. 

Zuko shapes his word with the majority of his remaining tiles, and given that there aren't very many tiles left in the cloth bag they're usually stored in, and Bee has already extinguished most of her own tiles, they both realize it's time to tally up points to see who the victor is. 

Smellerbee is doing the calculations, using the dictionary Zuko had handed her earlier to press the paper they'd kept track on down. She'd demanded he bring her a dictionary when he started using big words that she didn't believe were real, and she had teased him about his "rich boy upbringing" when they all turned out to be actual words. 

Apparently, the peasant comment is going to haunt him for as long as they're friends. He doesn’t think he minds that as much as he might’ve before. 

While debating if they want to play another round, or if they want to play something else, or if they even _want_ to play anything else, Uncle calls them into the kitchen. There are three plates set at the table tonight, and Zuko slips into that distant state of mind that’s been plaguing him all day as he realizes how peculiar and bizarre this entire situation is. 

“Hey, come back out of your head,” Bee says gently, nudging him in the side with her elbow. He shakes his head a bit, looking over at her and shrugging. 

“Yeah, I’m not trying to go all… fuzzy, I guess? I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like… like I can't help it, but it's like I just keep disconnecting."

“Like you just lose touch with your entire body? Like the process of just existing is Too Much? Yeah, I get it… maybe not the same as you, yeah? Everyone processes their shit differently, after all, but I do get it,” she says, effectively cutting off his awkward blundering of an explanation. Zuko lets out a sigh, nodding. She’d hit the nail right on the head. Before either of them can say anything else, Uncle starts to speak to the both of them.

“It is a common result of great pains and sorrows, be they physical or of the mind; things too terrible or too much to handle can cause such disconnects between the body and spirit. It is sad to hear that the two of you, as young as you are, are familiar with such concepts, but,” Uncle pauses here, lowering his voice just to be on the safe side, “such is the reality of life at war.”

Zuko and Smellerbee both go silent at this, the atmosphere in the kitchen becoming heavy and somber. Absently, Zuko has to wonder why it’s always the _kitchen_ where the vibes get bad. Maybe it’s haunted or something? He rubs his unbandaged thumb along the palm of his injured hand. His neck itches. 

It’s quiet for a few more moments, before Smellerbee hisses, “I don’t like how they make us just, like- we’re just expected to _forget_ the war is out there. How are we supposed to pretend all the shit that happened out there isn’t _real?”_

Her voice is subdued and quieter than normal. Given that you never know who might be listening, it’s understandable. The walls could very easily have ears and they’d be none the wiser until they get a visit from the Dai Li. Best to keep such things quiet when needed. 

Zuko nods, frowning down at his plate of rice and vegetables. “To me, it feels like the less I hear about it, the _more_ I think about it. The quieter it is, the more I have to actually reflect and regret. Not a big fan of it.”

“No, no, introspection is good. Introspection keeps you from burning cities to the ground _and_ it keeps you making good, logical for the most part, decisions,” Smellerbee says, derailing his moment of self-loathing.

“But I-”

“Nope! I don’t want to hear it and you can’t make me hear it. New beginnings, remember? We _just_ established this, Lee.”

In order to avoid responding, Zuko just grabs his chopsticks and starts to finally eat the dinner that his Uncle had kindly made for the three of them. Speaking of the old man, he’s just watching them both with an amused fondness. 

“What?” Zuko asks. His Uncle just shakes his head softly, chuckling lightly. 

“She is telling you the same thing I have been telling you for so long now, just in a rather, how would you say… blunt way,” he says, and Zuko blushes, a bit of that familiar shame and embarrassment wiggling into his mind like an infestation of pests, and his Uncle seems to realize how his words were taken as he clarifies. 

“I am not saying this to mock you, Nephew. I am glad you have found someone you can trust and who knows how to communicate with you best,” he says, offering a grateful nod to Smellerbee. She nods back shortly, not wanting to say anything with a mouthful of food, before turning her concerned gaze onto Zuko, whose eye is currently welling up with tears. Zuko hates it. 

“I don’t, I don’t know why I’m crying _again_ ,” he says, voice coming out a little shaky and frustrated. 

“Probably because you’ve had a horrible last night and a horrible and _long_ day today. It’s okay to not be okay right now. I’ve had episodes like this last me for days before. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s just. It happens, you know?” Smellerbee says gently, and Zuko is amazed at how easily her tone can shift from harsh louds to soft gentles so easily. He wishes it was that easy for him; his voice is always harsh louds, even when he _wants_ to be kind. Anger is just so much easier when there’s so much to be angry at. His anger is ever present, no matter what, always eating at him like a slow poison, curdling inside his veins before he has to get it out, has to boil over. 

“I don’t _want_ it to happen! It shouldn’t be the _norm_ of things. I hate being this, this fucked up!” He snaps, slamming his hand down on the table, and it’s like a switch flipping back and forth in his brain. Light, dark, happy, sad, all these bullshit metaphors about _balance,_ and now he’s lashing out, and he’s hitting the table, and oh, he’s _just like his father._ Delightful.

The thought is repeating in his head as his hand throbs, and he realizes he’d slammed the injured hand down on the table. He’d slammed it hard enough it’s bleeding through the bandage. 

"You are _not_ fucked up, Nephew, I assure you of that," Uncle says as he stands, and it sounds almost angry but it's not an anger directed at him. Zuko looks up, struggling to draw air into his lungs, as his Uncle comes around the table to kneel next to him, taking his hand in his own and unraveling the old bandages to get a look at the damage. 

"You aren't fucked up, you’re hurt," he repeats softly, and Zuko, who had been doing his best to tamp down his stupid, useless tears, finds himself failing at it now. 

Smellerbee is also watching him, but her gaze goes distant and concerned after a moment. Zuko doesn't have long to puzzle over her expression before his Uncle draws his attention back by letting out a worried noise over his hand. 

The cut really _doesn't_ need stitches, he's had enough to know when stitches are necessary, but it's still uncomfortably deep. That's probably what his Uncle is reacting to. Blood is oozing out rather steadily, but not in the rivulets it was in the morning thankfully. 

Smellerbee isn’t sure what she’d been expecting to happen, but when she feels Longshot’s presence in the back of her mind, wondering where she went and if she’s still with Lee, she doesn’t know why it surprises her at all. It’s also the worst timing possible because she doesn’t have the energy or focus right now to send back a long distance _thought._

They’re going to end up showing up on the doorstep of this apartment demanding to see if she’s okay, she already knows it. Longshot is so protective of those they love, and so they’re going to look for her, and then they’re going to know that Lee knows that _she_ knows and it’s just a bad time entirely.

She prays to all the Spirits that Longshot doesn’t bring Jet if they come. 

This would all be so much easier if she could just hate the two Firebenders- and really, she has every right and reason to. It would be justified to hate them on premise alone. She _had_ hated them, originally, when she first found out they were Fire Nation.

Then Lee had to go and act like a _moderately_ normal human being, with the oh-so-familiar spice of Trauma, and make her feel weird about her beliefs. 

If she had just kept hating them, then she wouldn't be constantly feeling Conflicted. She almost wishes they _were_ evil, like the stereotype in her head. It would make it all easier. 

_You also wouldn't have such a kind friend now,_ she thinks to herself at these thoughts, and she can feel Longshot's muted concern and confusion. They'll be coming and she hopes she'll be able to keep them from lashing out protectively; she hopes they won’t feel the _urge_ to lash out. They're intuitive enough to (sometimes quite literally) read the room.

Still, Longshot is going to know as soon as they walk in because she broadcasts every emotion, thought, and frustration the way the coywolves that used to roam the forests surrounding her hometown howled into the nights. Smellerbee banishes the thoughts of her hometown before they can tread down a dangerous path of recollection, regret, and rage. 

She and Mushi guide Lee to his feet, and he shakes his head, once, twice, before looking 

They lead him to the washroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bath, and Smellerbee takes hold of his wrist in a loose hand as Mushi gets together fresh bandages and a vial of some sort of strong-smelling ointment. Smellerbee gladly takes the cup of water that the old man hands her, and gets Lee to hold his hand over the toilet as she pours the water over it. 

Once it finally stops running pink, Mushi steps into their space and applies the salve to his Nephew's hand. 

Lee hisses just slightly, but otherwise says nothing, just gritting his teeth as Mushi wraps his hand with the clean bandages. 

"Where are you at in your head right now?" Bee asks, gently, prodding. 

"Home," he says after a beat, as if he's trying to process what she's saying. 

"Where is home?" She's not sure what answer she'll get, but she can't just sit there while he mentally clocks out. She's hoping maybe she can draw him back out of this headspace (again. It’s...been a very long day of these highs and lows, some more aggressive than others. Never physical, though, towards her at least. She thinks the idea might even appall him.) 

"I… I don't know anymore," he says, and his eyes are sad and confused. 

"Home is where you feel loved, Nephew. It is wherever you want it to be," Mushi says, with more kindness and wisdom than Smellerbee had ever imagined a Firebender could possibly have, and Lee looks up at him. 

"Can… can this be home?" He asks, voice barely loud enough to hear it. Smellerbee realizes she's intruding on something being passed between the two of them, as Mushi nods softly to his Nephew and holds his bandaged hand so gently, with so much care and love, and looks into Lee's eyes. 

"If this is where you want to call home, for however long you need to be, then it can be home. Your heart will guide you where it needs you," he says, and Smellerbee watches, feeling like a stranger, as Lee frowns. 

"When has my heart _ever_ led me to where I need to be?" 

"You are here, are you not? Making friends, true friends, by yourself?" 

Bee watched the internal conflict play out across Lee's face, and he finally looks over at her, almost seeming a bit surprised she's still there. She offers him a- hopefully- comforting smile, and he sighs, returning it weakly. 

"I… I think I am," he says, in response to his Uncle, and Smellerbee can't help it as her smile becomes a much more confident grin. 

It falters as she goes to speak, however. "I… hate to ruin this moment, but- Longshot is coming over, too. The- He's worried about us."

Her eyes cut over at Mushi when she almost outs Longshot in front of him. She doesn't think the old man would react _badly,_ given how quickly he corrected himself on the ferry, and how he’s gone through no obvious strain over switching to the right pronouns for her- she’s had people in the past put far too much emphasis on her pronouns for it to really feel natural, like they’re putting on a show. Mushi doesn’t do that; Mushi talks to her like he never even knew she was anything _but_ a young woman. It means more to her than he might even realize. Still. It isn't her place to out Longshot, even accidentally.

Lee seems more grounded than he had moments prior, and he nods. There's a worried little furrow in his brow, and his eyes scream _exhausted,_ but it's progress. 

It will have to do for now.

Longshot isn't sure what they're expecting when they arrive at the tiny apartment, but they weren't expecting it to be as _quiet_ as it is. 

Well, quiet may be the wrong word. Subdued, perhaps. It seems to fit better, in their opinion. The atmosphere is subdued. 

They've done watchouts with Jet and Smellerbee at this apartment before, and so they have a bit of an idea of what it's like inside based off of what they've seen through the windows. They've never actually been inside of the apartment before, though; it had always been a final barrier that they refused to cross and, prior to tonight, Bee had also refused to cross it. Being invited into the home of the two people they were _technically_ supposed to be stalking was crossing the line of distance that they had to maintain to keep themselves from getting fooled or attached. 

Although Zuko was such a surprisingly open book and bad liar that Longshot would have to be a fool themself for Zuko to pull a fast one on them. Regardless, despite the tentative "friendship" that Longshot had been reluctantly building up with the _literal Fire Prince,_ even if he doesn't know they know who he is, they had never had the inclination to enter his home. 

Clearly, something had either happened or shifted enough for that boundary to be demolished by Smellerbee. They were intrigued as much as they were slightly astounded. Smellerbee is kind, but she’s also a bit of a hardass outside of their friend group. She lacks much of the _insight_ , so to speak, that Longshot has, and usually makes up for it by just keeping people at a distance, _especially_ possible-threat people. They would have expected this process to have at least been in the reverse order if it was to happen.

Of course, they've been somewhat privy to the fact that this was coming as well, what with her sneaking off to visit Zuko, and her very loud thoughts about everything under the sun and moon, but they were attempting to pretend it wasn't. Jet has also had his suspicions that Smellerbee is slipping out of his control, and Longshot doesn't particularly want to see the fallout of that if Jet finds out that Bee isn't just ditching, but she's ditching _for_ their target _._

They know it may very well end with one of them dead, and it won't be a spoken word in a game this time. 

Longshot considers maybe they should reveal the _true_ identity of Lee to Smellerbee, perhaps that would bolster the distance she needed to keep. They can't afford to get attached if this turns to shit. Still, they don’t want to actively make life worse for Zuko either, they just would like to be in his life a little less. 

The door slides open after they knock, and Mushi stands on the other side of the door. By the process of elimination as to who could possibly be the Fire Prince's Uncle, Longshot can probably guess that this is General Iroh, the Dragon of the West. It could be an Uncle from Zuko's mother's side, but they can't remember ever hearing of the Fire Lady having any family. Not that they had cared much about the Fire Nation Royal Family aside from the best way to bring them down. All they know is from rumors, and now, from what they pick up from Zuko.

They resolve to just call the old man his given name of Mushi until they can determine who he is, which may be harder than they thought. Longshot can't get a read on him at all. It is unusual to them for someone's mind to be not just quiet, but completely inaccessible to them. It's almost as if the old man knows Longshot is actively _trying_ to read him, if the faintly amused look in his eye is anything to go by. 

"Ah, Longshot, is it? It has been awhile, hasn't it? Come in, make yourself at home, my Nephew and Smellerbee are here waiting for you," Mushi says, stepping aside to let them in. They nod respectfully, because they still have an act to keep up, don't they? Since they can't get a read on Mushi, maybe he's the mastermind behind any nefarious plots Jet seems convinced the two Firebenders have. 

Especially if this _is_ General Iroh, then why _wouldn't_ he be trying to take over? Instead of laying siege like before, wait a few years and attack it from the inside. It's not like Longshot can _verify_ it or not. Even Jet isn't as quiet as Mushi is, and Longshot can barely read Jet. 

The only issue is that, for all that it unsettles them that Mushi has no perceivable aura of thought, his kindness seems genuine. He offers them tea as they walk through the door, mentioning he has chamomile already brewed but he could make something else for them if they wanted. They just nod, looking around to take the apartment in. 

It's… more cozy than they were expecting. There's a worn out, threadbare rug in beige and green stretched out across the floor of the living area, a vase of flowers on the low table in the same room, and various paintings from a few local artists hung up on the walls. There's also a cabinet on the far left wall with five different tea sets in it, all of which they might have thought were decorative if not for the obvious signs of wear and use on them, fading their designs and tiny little chips here and there at the edges. 

There are also two beds, one tucked into the right corner, and the one that Longshot was looking for in the left corner, where Smellerbee and Zuko are currently sitting. 

Zuko, as loud as his thoughts usually are, is unusually subdued tonight. When he finally glances up at them from where he'd been staring at whatever Bee was doodling into a sketchbook, he gives a short nod in greeting. Smellerbee is radiating anxious, unsure energy, and Longshot is unpleasantly surprised to realize it's actually directed towards _them._

It takes all of their effort to keep their face carefully neutral, careful not to reveal anything even as they turn to face Smellerbee, who has resolutely not looked up from where she is sketching very angry stick people that appear to be stabbing stick _Fire Nation_ people, if the spiky 'flames' are anything to go by. 

They _know_ she's listening to them. As if proving that point, her head sinks a little lower, guiltily, before she huffs and puts down the sketchbook. Zuko frowns at her reaction, before looking up at them again and it's like he finally, _finally,_ processes that there's someone else in the room even though he had _just_ looked at them and nodded. To be fair, his mind seems to be scattered across the worlds, figuratively speaking. 

"Oh, hey, uh, Longshot. Do you wanna sit?" He asks them, gesturing to the middle while scooting back on his bed to make room for them. It's a surprisingly sweet gesture. 

Longshot ignores it entirely as Smellerbee stands. The two Freedom Fighters have to talk, privately, but they can't do it outside where Jet could possibly see. Jet would kill them both. Not literally, of course. Or... They don't think literally, at least. Lately? Well, it doesn't matter. Longshot just doesn't want to get caught fraternizing with the enemy, no matter how anxious said enemy seems to be getting. 

Apparently, Smellerbee has developed an internal Fire Prince Radar overnight, because just as the boy's thoughts _finally_ start to get some volume on them in the form of an apparent panic, she turns to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. She shakes him in that friendly-rough way she does with Longshot and Jet, albeit gentler than she usually does. Longshot doesn't know what to make of it as she tells Zuko that they'll be right back, she promises, they aren't gonna just leave without a word. She doesn't let go of his shoulder until he nods in agreement, believing her. 

Then she guides them to the washroom, because apparently she already knows where everything in the apartment is after just one day. She's so attached already, they don't know if they have the _heart_ to tell her that her new _Firebender Best Friend_ is the literal son of evil. 

Not that Zuko seems to have inherited that particular trait. It's, well, semantics and such. He's still dangerous. They aren't sure how he got under Bee's skin enough to make a home there, but it's worrisome. They just don't want her to get hurt. Longshot doesn't believe the Prince would _try_ to hurt her, but isn't one of the first lessons in life that a child learns a that great and primal truth? If one plays with fire, one will surely get burnt. 

"So, look, uh, yeah. I may or may not have screwed up, but hear me out?" She says, voice hushed, as soon as the door to the washroom is pulled closed. They cross their arms and lean against the wall as she sits down on the edge of the tub, gripping onto it with her hands, holding herself there like a lifeline. 

"I went by the tea shop earlier, as you know, because I was… worried, I guess, Jet was acting really… not okay last night. I don't know, it just felt like crossing a line? Well, you know how I feel about his whole plot anyways!" She says, her voice still hushed but starting to get heated. Longshot nods; they _do_ know how she feels about Jet's whole plan, and they can't say they feel much differently, but Jet… Jet is their leader. He has to know what he’s doing. Right? They don't want to think about what it says of them that this is something they don't know how to approach.

They gesture for her to continue.

"Yeah, right, right, anyways… Well, I figured at the beginning, which you probably know, do my own, better version of it, but then I got _attached,_ Longshot! I, uh. May or may not have told him I know what he is. He was _terrified._ He didn't get angry with me, or try to threaten me to keep me quiet. He just got scared, like he was about to lose everything again. It was like he was resigned to it too, though. He looked like one of us for a minute, you know? He looked like he just wanted one good thing in life. Isn't that how we started out? Fighting to keep what we had, and always so scared when we were about to lose it?

"He's...got some shit in his past that's a little bit concerning, like a _lot_ concerning, but he's trying really hard here. We've been talking all day, _all day,_ and just," she pauses, scratching at her headband, huffing, "I don't care who he _was._ He doesn't want to be that person anymore, I don’t think, and I want to give him that chance.”

By the time she finishes her botchy, scattered explanation, she's grounded herself, standing up with her arms crossed as if to defend herself as well as her stance on the situation. Longshot tilts their head at her, and she sighs and runs a hand through her hair. 

"Yeah, I don't know what exactly brought on this change of heart, but it feels like, well, what we're doing feels _wrong,_ and I don't want to be a part of it. I don't know. What Jet’s doing feels no better than some of the shit the Fire Nation has done. Does. I don't want to be like _them."_ Them being the bad Fire Nation. Them being the _cruel_ Fire Nation that they both know personally.

 _I've also been thinking about how Jet literally attacked the actual Avatar_ , she thinks, _and how three people from two nearly decimated cultures collectively said Jet was doing the wrong thing._

That is an astoundingly good point that she's brought up there. 

"He also said Ba Sing Se would be different, and it _is!_ It's different because he's getting _worse,_ Longshot. Lee is going to get hurt, _we’re_ going to get hurt, Jet’s going to get _himself_ hurt, and I… I don't think I trust Jet anymore, either…" Her voice is quiet and strained when she says it, almost like the wind has just been knocked out of her. Longshot can feel their face going through a series of complex emotions and expressions all at once, too much for them to control in front of someone they trust, and they watch as Bee starts to cave in on herself. 

"I didn't… I wasn't- I didn't want to say that," she says, but her eyes are wide and staring down at the floor. _Didn't I? I meant it. Why_ wouldn't _I say it?_

Longshot steps over to her and pulls her into a wordless hug. The two of them don't need anymore words right now. Words can be for later. She hesitates for a split second before she collapses against them, and she cries. They can feel her tears soaking onto their shoulder as she holds onto them like she's afraid her confession is going to eat her alive. It won't; they won't let it. It's ten minutes of quiet sobs from her before they pull apart, and she reaches up to rub the tears from her eyes. When they make eye contact, she nods. 

"Chamomile does sound nice right about now. I'm sure Lee has worked himself into three more panic attacks since we left, too," she says, and Longshot nods bemusedly. As they reach for the door, they're stopped by Bee putting a hand on their shoulder.

"I… hey, you would know best on this. I'm not _stupid_ for trusting him, right?" She asks, looking into their eyes, pleading that she's doing the right thing.

They reach out, searching. They find Zuko easily enough. They listen. 

_I hope I didn't do something wrong. I hope they're okay._ He hopes, always. (There was also something vaguely noodle-related, but Longshot didn’t feel that one was important at the moment.)

They nod to her. Longshot can grant her this, at the very least. The relieved look that immediately dawns on her face is worth it. 

"We're going to talk more about this, later, I promise, but for right now… " She starts, and they nod again; they stand by words being for later. 

Together, the two of them go back out into the living room where Mushi is currently sitting on his bed, reading a book by the light of his own lantern. Zuko is picking at his nails, sitting in the same place they left him, but he looks up when they walk out. 

He sees Smellerbee's red-rimmed eyes, and his energy flares up anxiously. "Are you okay?" 

Longshot watches as Bee just shrugs. 

"It's my turn on the breakdown, so you aren't allowed to have anymore tonight," she says in jest, voice thick with emotion and having just cried, and Zuko snorts. It's a noise unbecoming of a Prince, and Longshot is strangely pleased every time they witness him do something that makes him seem just as human as the rest of them.

"The tea is still warm in the kitchen, I've only just taken it off the stove. Help yourselves to anything you might want to eat as well. You're both welcome to stay the night; it's late and the streets are not always safe," Mushi says, and Bee nods to him kindly. Longshot is reminded again that she has been sneaking off to the tea shop for weeks now. She _knows_ these people, even if not fully.

They shouldn't have doubted her judgement. She's brilliant and defiant, and if she thinks these two are worth a shot, and Longshot has nothing to hold against them so far except for their identities, then maybe they’re willing to give them a chance, too. They walk over to where Zuko is sitting in lotus, eyeing them, as Smellerbee goes into the kitchen. 

"You know too, don't you?" He asks, hesitant, as if he fears the answer. Longshot nods, knowing what is being asked of them. Zuko winces. 

"And...you aren't, you know, upset?" He asks again, and Longshot isn't sure how to answer that because, honestly? They aren't sure what they personally feel about _him_ yet, so they shrug. 

"Not knowing how to feel seems to be the trend today," Smellerbee says as she comes back in and sits down next to Zuko like it's a normal occurrence that didn't start happening today. She hands each of them their tea, and hands Longshot a roll she'd snagged out of the breadbox. 

"Oh, those are rolls I made. They probably aren't very good," Zuko says, and Longshot raises a brow at that, but bites into the roll anyways. 

It's not horrible, or the worst they've ever eaten, but they also spent a large portion of their life living in a tree in the middle of the woods, so maybe they don't have a huge experience with "good" bread in order to make sound judgement. 

For a few moments, it's silent, just the quiet sounds of each of them sipping their tea, and the pages of a book being turned at the other side of the room. 

"So...are you two staying the night? We don't have any extra bed rolls, but we do have some more quilts and we can build a palette up, but that's only if you want to stay, of course…" Zuko asks, rambling, and there's a nervous energy to him. 

Of course, to be fair, he's sitting across from two people who know who he is- one of which he's unaware knows _exactly_ who he is- and they're both people who had previously been...very murder-y with their vocabulary about people like him. Longshot thinks they'd be nervous too, if they were in his position. 

Maybe the Prince doesn't want to be _alone_ either, if the desperate way he's looking towards Bee is any indication. 

"I'll stay. Longshot?" Bee says, and then turns to them. They nod as well. They're tired, and it's been an extremely long day for them all, and they don’t feel like explaining to Jet where they’ve been right now. 

Zuko stands, going to ruffle through one of the trunks against the back wall, and pulls out three large, heavy quilts. 

Laying the first two down on the floor next to his own bed, he folds the tops of them down to make little pseudo-pillows. He flicks the other quilt out a few times until it lines up over top of the two cushion quilts, then let's it land. He crawls into his own bed immediately after, picking at his nails again. 

_Am I supposed to do something else? I've never had friends over before_. Something about that soft thought, fading in and out, wasn't just reserved to this apartment, Longshot realizes. 

They make the first move, surprising both Bee and Zuko as they unbuckle their outer gear and crawl into the side of the palette closest to the exit. Bee climbs in between them and Zuko's bed after taking off her own gear. Longshot thinks this might be the strangest night of their life, but it's reached an oddly pleasant, oddly sad end so they'll take it. 

Zuko is about to reach for the lantern when Smellerbee reaches for his wrist. 

"Do you...it's stupid, and if it’s too risky don’t bother with it, but. Could you. Could you show us how you put it out with your bending? I've only ever seen Firebenders… I've only ever seen them _start_ fires…" Her eyes get sad as she says it, her mind drifting somewhere painful, and Zuko stills. He glances up at his Uncle, who has looked up from his book. They make eye contact across the room, and Uncle nods.

Uncle makes a show of putting his book down, laying down, and facing the wall. He purposely leaves his own lantern on as well, and Zuko realizes that this is Uncle's way of indicating it's a healing moment. Zuko relaxes, giving her a bittersweet smile once they, all three of them, stop looking over at his Uncle. 

"Yeah, I can do that for you," he says softly, and leans back away from the lantern. She watches with wide eyes, slight glass as she seems to be fighting the urge to cry, as he reaches out, connecting to his Inner Flame in a way he hasn't been able to in too long, and draws the flames of both lanterns into his control. It brings into him a level of grounded connection with himself that he's been struggling to find, and his eyes slip closed as he connects with the tiny flames. 

He doesn't see the way Longshot is watching him, the way they seem to realize this is drawing a sort of peace into the Firebender. He doesn’t see the expression on Longshot’s face when they also realize that this is a moment in their lives that will alter its path once more.

He doesn't see the way Smellerbee stares at the little flame, flickering like a heartbeat, like life, and rising once, twice, with his breath, before he pulls them down and out. The room isn't plunged into darkness so much as it fades in softly with the slow dimming of the lanterns as he exhales. Once the lights are both out, Zuko lets out a content sigh.

Smellerbee shifts her hand from his wrist into his own hand, lacing her fingers through his like they'd been earlier. She grips his hand so, _so_ tightly, and he can hear her give a shaky, quiet gasp. He squeezes her hand, laying down, and he hears Longshot shift to wrap her in a hug. 

"Thank you…" She whispers after a long moment of silence, long enough he had wondered if she'd fallen asleep crying, and he has no words to say. "You're welcome" would be meaningless in this context, it wouldn't be enough to encompass what has happened to put each of them where they are now. He settles for just squeezing her hand again, and they finally settle. 

It's the first time in weeks Zuko's slept all night without waking or having nightmares.


	7. Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which breakfast is had, drama is stirring, and another player joins the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been ten million years. this chapter is super self-indulgent, i rewrote it like three times and this is what it finally settled on, and is primarily fluff tbh, with a dash of 'oh shit this asshole again?' to keep it on track. it's also an introductory chapter for a very important friend who will definitely be returning regularly. my update schedule doesn't exist, but rest assured this fic is NOT abandoned even if i take another ten years on an update!
> 
> tw: some mild manipulation, and some misunderstood situations near the end. nothing too major, for once

Iroh lets the three teenagers sleep in the next morning, since he and Zuko don't have to work until later in the afternoon. He also has time to make them all breakfast before the children dart off to do whatever it is they all get up to when Zuko isn’t at work or in the apartment. He knows his Nephew will want to get out until his shift tonight. 

Iroh hopes, sometimes, that the children are doing activities that won’t land Zuko in prison or dead, but he also knows that that’s a high thing to hope for where his impulsive Nephew is involved. He loves him, truly, but the boy could  _ trip _ his way into chaos with how easily he follows it. 

Speaking of his Nephew, he hears the tell-tale rustling of bed covers just outside the kitchen and a drowsy complaint from Smellerbee about ‘not wanting to get up yet, it’s before noon’ and soon Zuko has made his way into the kitchen with him. 

“They’re still asleep,” he says softly, and as if to prove his point there’s a quiet snore from the living area. Iroh watches as Zuko pulls the table out from where it’s pressed against the wall, and sets four places at the table. There’s a content, pleased smile on his Nephew’s face that he hasn’t seen much at all in the time he’s been involved in the boy’s life since banishment. The realization that he’s seen much more of those smiles since his Nephew began making friends has him warming inside. It brings him hope that the kind boy that had once lived within Zuko is finally being given room to grow, as it always should have. 

Iroh turns back towards the counter, letting his Nephew prepare the rest of the kitchen while he cooks. 

Zuko grins amusedly when he realizes, after a few glances out of the room and a careful ear, that it’s  _ Longshot _ that’s snoring. Apparently, they aren’t quite as quiet in sleep as they are in waking. Zuko definitely wouldn’t have pegged them as the type to snore.

Zuko also idly wonders when he started referring to Longshot as  _ they _ and  _ them.  _ It’s a recent change, but it feels right. Maybe he’ll ask Longshot about it, once they’re awake, just for a confirmation. Sometimes, things involving Longshot just  _ happen _ and no one is really sure why or how. At this point, Zuko just rolls with it. It’s easier to just accept it than it is to spin his mind in loops wondering. 

Once the table is set and ready, Zuko tries to muffle a sleepy yawn with the back of his hand. He's so used to  _ not _ sleeping well, that now having a full good night's sleep feels almost like  _ too much _ sleep. 

Zuko is starting to help his Uncle make breakfast when Smellerbee drudges into the kitchen, staring at them tiredly from beneath her slightly askew hairband. It's pulled down slightly over her right eye, letting hair fall down over her face on that side- a fact she's aware of but not awake enough to solve yet. 

"Why are y'all," she yawns, barely covering her mouth as she does so, "why are y'all up already..? The sun… sun is still rising."

Even in her sleep-addled state, she walks over to Zuko and stands beside him, helping him peel fruits while Iroh prepares some eggs. 

"It's a Firebender thing… we draw our power from the sun, so we rise with the sun instinctively. The sun helps charge us, basically," he explains quietly, gently- he isn't sure if talking about Firebending around her is the best idea yet, but she did  _ ask. _ Before he can dive down a rabbit-deer hole in his thoughts, she snorts. 

"Like a plant."

"...What? No, not like a plant!" 

She grins at his indignant response. She says, "Sure it is! Rise with the sun, draw power from the sun, grow with the sun. That's plants, dude. I bet you just  _ love  _ rain, don't you Lee?"

Fuck. She's got him in a corner. He  _ does _ love rain, but he's pretty sure that's just a him thing and not a Firebender thing. 

"I'm gonna call you Sunflower from now on and there's nothing you can do about it!" She says in a sleepy, sing-song voice. Uncle has remained surprisingly quiet, but Zuko believes it's because the old man is currently trying to stifle his laughter, if his shaking shoulders are anything to go by. Traitor. 

Longshot finally joins the kitchen gathering, looking completely awake and revitalized. They're also smirking, probably at Zuko's expense, and that's when he knows that he really  _ can't _ escape the inevitable plant puns. This is just his life now. 

He finds himself loathing that fact a little less each day. 

As they all settle down at the table, Smellerbee leans against Longshot and flicks the back of their  _ dǒulì,  _ knocking it forward over their face. Zuko snorts as Longshot immediately retaliates by wiping the fruit juice on their left hand across her arm. 

"I've been attacked!" She cries dramatically, falling to the side next to Zuko. 

"Avenge me," she pleads with him, and Zuko forces himself to wear a solemn expression, pretending it isn't cracking into a smile. He picks up the tiniest glob of egg and launches it at Longshot. It lands on their neck, and they immediately scoop it up and eat it while glaring at him. 

Eh, waste not, want not, Zuko figures. 

Uncle is watching it all go down with a content smile and so much fondness in his eyes that Zuko can't look for long. Instead, he focuses on dropping an apple chunk on Bee's face, not counting on her catching it in her mouth the way she does. She lunges for it, really, like a striking snake. It’s terrifying, how she lunges. She puts one of her own pieces of apple on his plate as repayment. Even exchange. 

Breakfast continues on without a hitch after that, and without anymore food attacks. Zuko takes their now-empty plates to the sink and washes them while Longshot dries them and puts them away. Smellerbee wipes down the table and countertops, and Uncle watches with pleasant surprise as the three teens take care of it all.

After the kitchen is clean, Zuko, Smellerbee, and Longshot go out to the living room and stand near the door. It's awkward, but not in a bad way, as they try to figure out what to do. 

"I was thinking about going to the library before work today, I have some books due back tomorrow that I want to turn in early," Zuko says, and Bee snorts. 

"You're such a  _ nerd _ . What type of books do you read?" She asks, grinning. Even though she's teasing him, it doesn't feel mocking. 

"Oh, uh, I'll read pretty much anything. Sometimes I just like the feel of books in my hands," he explains, a tiny flush of embarrassment tinting his cheeks red. 

"A man of many tastes. We love to see it," she says, punching his shoulder affectionately. 

"Alright, well, we've gotta head out but. We should do this again sometime..?" She trails it off, glancing at Longshot as well. They nod once, a small smile on their face. 

"I'd… I'd like that, yeah," Zuko says, his own smile going soft. He's feeling all kinds of things he isn't used to on this fine, early spring morning. 

He sends them off with a promise to hang out again soon, "just the three of them" Smellerbee insisted, and then it's just him and Uncle. 

His Uncle smiles at him as he walks up and pulls him into a platypus-bear hug, before holding him at arm's length. 

"I am so proud of you, Nephew. So, so proud. Look at how far you've already come," he says, eyes swimming with emotion, and Zuko feels his heart swell in his chest at the words. He doesn't  _ feel _ like he's changed very much at all; he's still prone to his anger and aggression, he's still, he's still… he realizes he may be at a personal standstill with his own perception of himself. 

Zuko decides he can think these thoughts later, and leans against his Uncle for another hug. He'd forgotten how much he missed being held and cared for. So what if it's childish to want to be hugged? He can't find it in himself to be embarrassed when his Uncle does nothing more than embrace him like he could disappear any second. 

The early morning sunlight through the windows lights the whole apartment in gentle shades of green. 

"Where were you two last night?" 

Smellerbee jolts from where she's leaned over her bag, going through her belongings. She stands up and turns to face Jet, who has his arms crossed and is leaning against the doorway. 

The light is streaming in from behind him, and his face is cast in shadow. From this angle, his eyes  _ almost _ appear like empty sockets. It’s as if the very spirits are trying to warn her away from him. She wonders how long they’ve been trying to do so. The thought alone makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

"Oh, we were, uh, just out exploring the city. The Lower Ring is really big, you know?" She says, cursing her stammering. She's usually a much better liar than that, but he caught her off guard and put her on edge. 

"Oh? And what exactly did you do? Or, I suppose the better question, who did you do it with?" Jet readjusts the way he's leaning, putting his weight on his other leg, and raising an eyebrow at Smellerbee, "and remember, I'll know if you lie to me."

He's bluffing. He's got to be bluffing, unless he followed them last night. Longshot didn't see or sense Jet near them last night, but sometimes they can't get a read on Jet and what if it was one of those times? Maybe their leader  _ did _ follow them. 

It used to bring her comfort, knowing that Jet was always keeping an eye on them, watching out for them. Now, it brings the acrid flavor of anxiousness and the feeling of being controlled. Stalked. Hunted.

She has to tell him the truth, even if he  _ didn't  _ follow them. If she lies, he'll  _ know. _ "We were with…Lee." 

His eyes spark dangerously, and although he's smirking, there's a sharpness to it that makes her want to flee. Bee doesn’t think she’d be surprised if he had fangs hidden within his jaws, with the way he looks at her.

"Lee, the _Firebender?_ Well, I can't say I saw that one coming," he paused, shaking his head in disbelief, "So, what? You're just going to forget about how his kind destroyed your home, your family, everything you ever loved? You're going to forget about how you found the charred bodies of your friends as you fled? What about Longshot? You're gonna forget what the Fire Nation did to them? Or how about how they fucking killed my family, too. You're just going to forget about all that?" 

He takes a step closer to her with each question, and his voice raises in his anger. His words are true, and Smellerbee flinches with each one. They’re  _ true, _ but she isn’t turning her back on what she knows. She’s just opening her eyes! She knows  _ more _ now. Why can’t he do the same?

"I'm not forgetting, Jet, I can't fucking forget that! Don't you think I've thought about that?" She shouts back at him, but she's backing up, hand instinctively reaching for her blade at her hip. 

"It sure doesn't sound like you're doing much thinking at all! What, he plays his perfect little victim sob story and suddenly you're ready to ride or die for him?" 

"That's not fair, Jet. He's nothing like that. Why are you  _ assuming _ we're friends anyways? How the fuck do you know we aren't just trying to feed into your bullshit seduction plot?" she says, damn near snarling at him as her back hits the wall. He's towering over her now, swinging his hands around to emphasize his points. 

"Not  _ fair?  _ Nothing like that? You're really willing to turn your back on everything for this motherfucker, huh. And you don't seem to be  _ denying _ a whole lot of anything, anyways, so I think it's a fair assumption," he says. It's the truth. It's true. She's not denying anything because what he's saying is true.

He pauses to take a breath, before diving right back in. "Do you even know anything about him? How many people has he killed? Huh? How many homes has  _ he _ burnt down? How many families has he torn apart, huh? You ever think about that?"

"I don't  _ know _ , I didn't- I don't- shut  _ up!"  _ Her heart is pounding, and she feels a nauseating mix of emotions in the pit of her belly, mostly guilt, anger, and fear. 

"You can't even speak up to fucking defend yourself? Pathetic. I expected more from you, Smellerbee," he says, shaking his head. 

Longshot chooses this moment to show up, looking like they'd sprinted, and Smellerbee feels relief wash over her. Longshot vouched for Lee last night. Longshot would know better than anyone on this. She reminds herself that she's  _ not _ making a mistake. 

“Longshot! How nice of you to arrive. Must have been a long night, spending all that time with Bee here and your dear old friend, Lee. Got anything to say about our bright sparkling boy?” Jet sneers, but the question is genuine. Longshot narrows their eyes, choosing to remain silent. They aren’t going to give him any fodder that he could use against them, or against Lee. Before Jet can press the issue, Smellerbee is speaking up again.

"Fuck you, Jet. You're so… you're so caught up in your own violent fantasies that you can't see what's around you. There's, there's so much more than just creating an endless cycle of blood." 

She feels pride wash over her, pride not her own, and she hopes her own feelings of gratitude and appreciation radiate out towards Longshot. 

"Do you think the Fire Nation would say the same thing if they were in our position? Really, do you think Lee and his ashmaker Uncle wo-"

"I  _ don't care _ what they would do! Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, I  _ don't  _ want to be  _ just like the Fire Nation? _ What makes you any different if you decide things the same way they do?"

Longshot walks up beside her and nods, agreeing. Jet… well, Jet seems a bit more perturbed by this than he may have wanted to let on. 

Jet has made a miscalculation. Jet has miscalculated badly and he has to rein this back in before it's out of his control. He may not be thrilled by this apparent betrayal on their part, but for right now he still needs them. 

They have a use, at the very least, and he can't utilize that if they walk out on him. It's with that thought in mind that he sucks in a breath, channels his energy into appearing contrite, and exhaling. He repeats it a few times, showing he's thinking. 

"You're right… I'm sorry, I just- we've lost so much to them, you know..? It's hard to see them as anything other than monsters..." He says, a lie by telling the truth, and his voice is soft. He can see Longshot's gaze attempting to read him. Jet has put too much effort into making sure Longshot can't get into his head, though, and so they find nothing. 

Smellerbee still has her hands on the hilt of her dagger, but she relaxes it slightly. 

"Ba Sing Se is supposed to be different, Jet. We're supposed to be better people…" she trails off, looking down to the floor. Jet grimaces at the reminder. 

"I know, Bee, I know. I'll try, alright? I can try, for you two," he says earnestly, and they both relax. Slowly, as if they're forcing themselves to. He's not sure if he sold it quite as well as he wanted. 

_ He really thinks we're idiots,  _ Longshot thinks to themself. Now that they know they're  _ looking _ for cracks in Jet's act, they can sometimes spot them when they happen. They had seen the frustration in his eyes when they hadn't immediately softened to his words. 

_ Don't let him know we're suspicious of him, _ they put out to Bee, who's ears twitch back just slightly- one of her tells that only they know. They'd just relaxed, and are both fully aware the two of them are now playing a dangerous game against Jet. 

Smellerbee and Longshot are good liars, but Jet has always been far better. They'll have to be careful if they want him to believe they aren't looking for a way out. Longshot worries what Jet would do to Lee if they were to ditch now. Longshot worries what Jet would do to  _ them and Bee _ if they were to ditch now.

Longshot doesn't want to find out. 

  
  


Zuko can't believe this is what his life has come to. From Prince of the Fire Nation, to Banished Prince, to being branded a Traitor, to being a Tea Server who's apparently going on a date with a girl he doesn't even know because Uncle set him up on it. He tries desperately not to consider this cheating because, well, he and Jet  _ aren't  _ dating and Zuko really doesn't think he  _ wants _ to be involved with the Earth boy at all. 

He's willing to spend time with the Freedom Fighters for Bee and Longshot, but Jet… Jet is too much of a wild card, and he's becoming more hostile each time Zuko sees him. Zuko doesn’t think he likes Jet much, especially seeing the strides Smellerbee, and now Longshot, take to make it  _ just them, _ excluding the other boy.

Still, he isn't sure he wants to go on this date at all. It's not that she isn't pretty or that he isn't interested at  _ all _ \- he tends to lean more towards the masculine form, but he finds that soft curves can sometimes be appealing as well. His life is just in too much chaos right now to fit in a relationship that's destined to fail. He dreads it as the shop creeps closer and closer to closing. He dreads it as he fixes his clothes and his Uncle does his hair. 

He knows the date is going to end in disaster, and as he steps outside, as he meets her and she ruffles his hair, he almost wishes it  _ could _ end differently. 

The evening moves on and he makes a fool of himself the entire time. He blunders his way through interacting with her, trying his best to not let on how uncomfortable he is and how much he'd really like to not ruin her good time as well. 

He doesn't think he does a very good job with it, if her sometimes amused and sometimes concerned stares are anything to go by. 

It isn't until they're at the fountain that he actually, really, enjoys himself as he lights all the lanterns for her. When her eyes open and the light of dozens of tiny flames reflect off of them, she's gorgeous. 

He feels nothing for her. He wonders if that makes it better or worse. 

When they kiss and he runs away, he expects that to be the end of it. 

It isn't. 

Jin comes in the next day while he's on shift, looking a little sad, but also determined. He feels his heart rate skyrocket, and wonders if he can get away with running out the backdoor. 

His Uncle has other plans, if the way he shoos him into finally taking his lunch break means anything. Zuko reluctantly pulls off his apron and nods to Jin as he steps around to greet her anxiously. He can feel his hands shaking, but she just gestures for him to follow her. 

Once they're out on the street and walking, she sighs. "I'm not entirely sure what set us off on the wrong foot last night, but… I'm not angry. Well, I was. A little bit. Hurt, too, but. I can let that go, if you're willing to talk to me? Cause I have it boiled down to two possibilities, and both could be true." 

"Uh, possibilities? What, you know, what, I mean- why does it matter? Maybe I don't  _ want _ to share my whole life story with someone I essentially met yesterday, you know? I did  _ leave _ last night." Ah, anger. It still comes so easily.

She flinches a little at his sudden outburst, and her eyes widen, harden, and then soften in that order. "Well, you don't have to be  _ mean _ about it. You're right, though, I shouldn't pry… I guess I just thought. Well, you probably risked a lot with that lantern show, so I thought maybe…" 

Zuko feels his heart threatening to tear out his chest, and he grabs her arm and tugs her into an alleyway while no one is looking. The alarm in her eyes as he covers her mouth to shut her up is almost enough to make him back off, but currently he's a little caught up in his own alarm. 

"You, you can't tell  _ anyone _ . Please, I won't, I promise I'm not here to hurt anyone and my Uncle  _ definitely  _ isn't, he. He's happy here and I don't want to  _ risk _ that for him," he begs, looking her dead in the eye as he lowers his hand from her mouth. She doesn't scream when he does, and she'd stopped trying to thrash loose as he had pleaded with her, so he's- well, honestly, he's hoping for the best right now. 

"First off, if you ever drag me or any other woman into an alley like you just did, you won't have a dick anymore," she says, tone serious and face set in a scowl, before continuing, "Secondly, I wasn't accusing you of trying to hurt anyone. You aren't the first deserters to find refuge in Ba Sing Se, you know. One of my Aunts is a Firebender; she's a war child; she was rescued when she was little. She and my Uncle have been married for years."

Zuko has no response to that. He isn't sure how to respond to that. He settles for, "Oh." 

Apparently, this is about what she expected, because she snorts. 

"Yeah, 'oh,' dummy. If I had a problem with it, I doubt I would have brought it up in a  _ positive _ light, if you'd have listened to me," she says, raising an eyebrow at him as she smirks. She's watching the gears turn in his brain, he knows he's showing it all over his face, and then the click of realization when he realized what she meant. 

"Oh spirits, I'm so fucking stupid," he says, covering his face with his hands to hide his embarrassment. He  _ knows _ his whole face is probably as red as his scar now. 

She snorts again before losing herself in full-bodied, bent over laughter. It might be a little bit hysterical. Zuko is quick to join her. Also hysterical. It's becoming a bit of an alarming habit of his, the slightly-unhinged laughter. 

To be fair- they both had reasons to be on edge right now. He had thought he and his Uncle were about to be turned in for an execution.  _ She _ had just been dragged into an alleyway, had her voice covered, and pinned to the wall by a boy she really didn't know. Speaking of.

"Sorry. For, uh, running away last night. And also for, well, you know. Pinning you to the wall like that. I'm sure that was scary. I'm sorry for reacting so poorly," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He isn't really that good at apologies yet. 

"Yeah, well. I think we both could have handled this whole situation… better. Anyways, my other possibility had been that you were gay and, well, technically it  _ was _ your Uncle that set you up. Not that there's anything wrong with being gay! If you are, that is," she drops her gaze to the side for a few moments, embarrassed herself. She didn't really  _ need _ to bring up Possibility #2, but sue her. She was coming down from an adrenaline high. 

Zuko stutters, opens his mouth and then closes it. He's doing an excellent impression of a cat-fish. He is  _ not _ about to admit one of his deepest hidden secrets out loud to her. He doesn't know her  _ that  _ well. 

"I mean, girls are nice. I like them, uh, sometimes. Not usually though..? Boys…" He trails off, because apparently his mouth didn't catch when his brain decided he  _ wasn't  _ going to tell her anything. He flushes red again, this time in both embarrassment  _ and _ shame. He's the Fire Prince. He shouldn't have  _ any _ thoughts of boys. 

Yet here he is. Admitting one of his many shames to a random girl with a crush on him in a dirty Earth Kingdom alley after knowing her for One Whole Day. Life sure is funny.

"So you mean, you're bisexual?" She says after a moment of deciphering his explanation. 

What. "What?" 

"You know. You like boys  _ and _ girls. It's normal to feel like that. I mean, I, personally, am straight, but I have quite a few bisexual and gay friends. I have a few transgender friends, too. I know things might be different, where you’re from, but. It's normal. It's okay," she says, explaining to him in a gentle and surprisingly patient tone. 

It's a lot to take in. It's a lot but it's also remarkably comforting in a way he didn't realize he needed until now. He wonders if, someday, he'll be able to tell Azula the same thing.  _ It's okay. _

Sometimes he misses his baby sister so much it hurts. 

"Okay… okay. I don't- I have a lot to work through, clearly, and I don't really know if I believe that  _ quite _ yet but. This helped. I think. I think it helped more than you even realize," he says, voice soft in a way it usually isn't. Another change he's only just noticing. He's still quick to anger, but it doesn't seem quite as all consuming as it once had. 

"Well then. When I boiled you down to two possibilities, I didn't expect to get them  _ right,"  _ she says, laughing into the back of her hand as he shakes his head. 

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you're just smarter than you let on," he says, nose twitching as he takes a breath to strengthen himself, "I'd also like to… apologize for leading you on, I guess. I did have fun, really, I'm just. Yeah. Not really… looking right now?" 

She shrugs, a good natured smile on her face. "That's fine, and I'd wanted to talk to you about all of last night regardless. We both absolutely butchered the whole talk, but hey! We got there in the end. If you want to be friends though, I'm down for that."

He smiles back at her, holding out his arm for her to take. "Yeah… we did. Friends… Alright, yeah. Friends. I should probably use my lunch break to actually eat lunch. Care to join me in a platonic, not-date way?" 

"I'd love that. Lead the way, Master Juggler," she says, smirking as she loops her arm through his. 

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" He asks, a bit of exasperation in his voice. She just shakes her head no with a coy smile. 

As they make their way to the noodle place close to the tea shop, he thinks maybe having another friend won't be such a bad thing. 


End file.
